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GRASS TO GRACE

Oh! How merry to see the face of fate
Standing at the foot of my humble gate
Fending its sword over the monstrous night
Like a fearless knight in a storied fight

I had thought my dreams stood in vain
Like a child’s plea to the fierce rain
Melting slowly to nothingness
Like a scalp hunted by baldness

But, now, my legs stand on warm solid field
For gone are the wolves that snarl at my shield
My eyes behold the luscious waterfall
Beyond the dark claws of the vulture’s call

The warm sun glitters above my head
Despair catches fever and falls dead
Moonlight dangles aloft at night
Soothing my heart with beams of bright

Thus, my tale goes: the once sickly ant
Now bears the tusk of an elephant
Behold! Life is a furnace when one does fall
But a convivial banquet when one has all

Written by: Chinazom Otubelu

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