The sun blaze and the birds whispers
The coconut tree dances at the tune of the wind
The leaves shines greenish and invisible vapours
Mango trees and orange, lemons and pear , thy refreshes
The strain of many years past, natures way is constant.
Nza the bird who wrestle with his chi , and fight till death.
Akara-ogun the great hunter ,who fought with Agbako.
Did he cause a spark of admiration? Agbako was thrilled,
Even sixteen Akara-Ogun , did not lay the lord of the forest to grass.
No man is born destined, no name without a thing . Every thing that starts most end.
What is Oghene, is he Olorun or Deus. Does he move or ever motionly?
Is it a principle or God, does it have sight or simply a law?
Can we know what it is, are we from it or part of it?
Are we like it, can we use the pronoun He to refer to it?
Can metaphysics save us from the dialectics of ignorance?
The birds continue with their singing, they call their lost friend Shriel.
Shriel watches as they whisper for her, but her delight is where she is.
The bird who chooses to fly away has had a vision.
A child who leaves home is a Wonderer, adventures last a life time.
Freedom is a very far cry from reality, freedom is the mad woman who flings her Cain about, madly like a maid with a mammals milk.
Freedom smells of chocolate cake but its never on sight.
Freedom is the ideology in the world of forms .
In the cave there are kings on chain who is less restrained
Amongst blind men, the one with an eye is lord.
The world is made of varieties, of the perfect yellowness of mangoes , the fragrance from the queen of the night, or the healing nature grant the spirit to perceive an unempirical .
Nothing is what it is not. Appearance is reality, beyond reality it the soul where truth lies. Colors is the spice of nature.