The seamless bond of stones and voices.
Up against each other they stood
as though without aim or purpose.
Endlessly they waited for when
the real prophetic promises would be revealed.
That we might see the light,
to forget our weariness of yesteryears.
So, they watched, maybe a miracle might occur,
but none did.
Thus they crawled in pain for 42 years.
At a point they asked,
"Shall we continue?
Shall we ever see the light?"
And none was ready to reply.
So, the ageing stones learnt to smile like rocks,
voiceless and blind, it seemed they were,
and the weary voices wept with heavy hearts,
"Would we be free?" they
whispered to each other.
Yet, none had a clue.
Then manna was brought
to lower their hungry, noisy voices,
whilst he who brought it, ate royal dishes,
himself a voice, a bought and bribed one.
And the rocks lay ignorant,
and the voices consulted with the rocks,
who from stones grew hungrily into rocks,
and the voices knew they would age in hunger,
likewise their younger ones.
Then they quit manna,
and chained with the rocks, fought together,
only for their struggles to end
in constant salient waters.
Suddenly two rocky voices
screamed and shattered the chains,
and marched as one,
and burnt the palace of Ali Baba
to roast the 40 thieves.
Until calm became inevitable.
Adekanmbi Adeshile Olaolu
Copyright © 2003