Following the cold rain is the sun
spitting fire from the mountains.
The forest stretches her neck
and forbids her arms from the music of the wind.
The wind spies the sun wayfaring
like a lost craft drifting in the tide.
Here, it passes sadly with her springy feet on my head.
I feel it; grousing against the fiery sun.
It's great, to see a heartless star maiming
a hearty companion of heaven.
When evening comes ahead, the sun bleaches, and we
may rise upon our fields
and upon faces may the sands seek to rest for the night;
reminding us of new bamboo bed and cold dreams.
And if the night sits upon the grasses and waits for
morning to come.
The sun will come gently, like a golden sea, aloft,
like the clouds in rapture attempts.
With a dive in his stifling wildness and his lofty drowning coats,
a tooth grin will loose at newly caught skins.
But be assured of all that, an unusual rain will tear the forest's
arms and flesh, and put the sun in chills.
And then, I shall feel tickling feet,
not on my head alone, but all of my skin.
About The Poet
Enang, Godswill Stanislaus, a Nigerian poet, lives in Zamfara. He is aged 21.
A former awardee of Poets In Nigeria Initiative, (PIN). He graduated at the University
of Uyo, Nigeria, where he studied Political Science. He is a curious academia who
loves interracting with new people.