AraEBamiyo

Do you recall…

Can you retell

the handwriting

hand written on the wall?

Except a man be blind,

he cannot fail to tell

the event was divine.

I guess I was blind,

though my eyes

were wide open…

A vision, like a mustard seed,

planted in my heart;

and I watered it,

allowed the sun to shine on it.

Then, with time, I chopped the stem

and laid it at the altar of

“Be it unto me according to thy will.”

I thought the stump had died

and the root had grown old…

But a Hand

kept at work…

channeled water to the stump,

and AraEBamiyo budded forth

like a new young plant.

Inkhorn Literary 

He speaks. We write.