Sunday, March 24, 2013

Do things fall apart when they leave?

Think of a life & think of a poem,
Where everyone is a word.

A poem where a word is the thought that we bring,
The thought behind our work,
as we till the earth for substance,
It is the thought found in our essence,
the idea transmitted during interactions.

That word is who we are,
All look similar,
Yet perfect in our own ways,
And unique in our own expressions.

All part of that poem,
That poem that has been weaved up since creation,
Capturing the misery of the human experience,
An experience filled with love, hate, ambition, the quest to protect personal possession and a halfhearted desire to provide for the next generation.

Though every word released destines out to accomplish a personal purpose,
It is not aware that it's ways are being orchestrated by a Divine Being to flow in harmony with the rhythm of the times.

With this Icon passing, the tempo changes,
The poem has lost an essence,and even when replaced, the new never flows like the old.

With these departures,
the new words that are born ushers in a new era which is a new verse,
Changing the tempo of the poem, in the rhyme of life.

Dedicated to Professor Albert Chinualumogu Achebe, 16 November 1930 – 21 March 2013.

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