Prose

From the feet of aljanna.

And the Sun Day that came
On the petals of a sunflower
Stood over fresh shrubs
Beckoning on us
With a dimpled smile.

A basket of topaz
Trailed the rising sun
Dripping crystals onto our doorstep.

Our Eyes,
Lost in lust
Sought the tail of a world free
Of tears, pain, death.

But first
A man draped in white
Vanished into the most sacred Gidan
Incense on smouldering coal

Hither and Tither.
Towering Sweet odour
As Communion tugged at Atonement.
Then all hunting memories
Were wiped.

And peace flowed from the feet of aljanna into the source of the Ethiope River.

©philemon doro adjekuko

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Publisher and Editor-in-Chief, Newspackng.
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