Therapeutics 

It is misting this morning.
So, I open the door to my mouth,
unattired, bring out my tongue,
to kiss waters, undiluted.

And this is a great healing:

Our village market has so many routes.
I mean there are ways to live
in places where air is not measured 
with a needle’s eye.

And this is a path to life: bonding––

bond to what gives you hope,
to what gives you a clan,
to what or who calls your name
each time a gusty wind makes itself known

and news about broken things hover around.

So I ask: when harmattan visits,
will you take me as your tropical plant
and spray on me fine droplets? Will you?

Calling for Waters

Because I know darkness is a pebble in search
of a home within me, I call for a drink of water
be it ice falling from heavens,
morning misting on leaves,
a drop of tears from rocks
or the salty sea enclosing borders
to flush them beyond death chamber
before they know the sweetness of success.
Because every day knows the hug of night,
I mean to say light is a man
and darkness is a beautiful maiden
standing along the lane to our home,
waiting to mould us into victims of fate;
(but fate is not a living thing)
I call waters from the depth of holy well
for cleansing. So I would sight only white angels
chanting my name into unending life.
Because I discover my demons are sour salts,
I poke the rock holding me captive.
What proceeds out of it I call fluid, 
you can call it waters from within me.
So my demons would know the feel 
of body melting into pain, into grief.
Because I love the sound of the drum echoing: 
life is a lollipop in the hands of a toddler,
I call upon waters to heal me, in every way possible.

Become Waters

There is fire burning beneath my skin.
It is ruthless than the kind of fire
your clergy makes you see on worship days.
Do not imagine this. Some caked bread
are better not shared––I’ve swallowed this one.
This is not me displaying my pains on a 5D screen.
The smokes erupting from my body is the reason 
the neighbourhood’s nose breathed questions.
And yes, this is the answer you seek.
Forgive me. I am stingy with the spirit.
Let my body alone be filled with it until I am 
reduced to fine particles on the palms of earth,
until I become the regalia of ash worn by wind.
Be alive, yes live in a peaceful piece
but become waters––water is life. Become waters.
Be alive. Be life itself. Friend, I shall burn.
A cut of this fire said so in a foreign tongue––
it took me a while to crack this hard nut.
Forgive me I did not tell you soon enough
that I am the brown pigment on your roof.
In a flash, be waters––hug me into life eternal.
You live. I would leave and live in you.