A rumble in the sky,
a croon dews down at dusk.
In drought, it drips all night,
at times a light shower, then a torrent;
thaws crusted hearts behind shuttered doors.
Life blooms, flowers at dawn
causing the earth to know no winter
but spring and summer; and spring
streaming to summer. I hum
the rich ballad while my heart croons
a continuous refrain. I cuddle the lullaby, think
no more of the dark hours of howling storm.
Awake, I drip honey,
infused with life. So real:
God’s pristine love.
The world wilts,
withers from stanching
the flow of heaven’s dew.
It loves romance with death,
stench of blood down the streets;
death gasps, a melody.
There was once life,
and still is!
His voice rumbles.
I hear it croon from turrets,
in booms and blasts; it shrills
at irreversible drift to a brink,
the end of life.
If cost of arms
had armed the poor;
turrets of rage aimed at morbid hate,
love would’ve stanched the flow of death,
dew down heaven’s tune, flood the earth
with sweet refrain.
© 2016 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi