VILLAGE BLISSING

I woke in the morning

To the calls of crowing

And loved the air blowing

And saw the trees swinging

I loved the birds singing

And loved the bush brushing

Happily, happily, to the stream I went singing

 

The stream kept waving

The rats kept strolling

The sun kept smiling

The dust kept dancing as mud houses kept perfuming

And when the clouds sought crying

I felt its blessings

 

Natures noise was soothing

Meditational moments handed on a platter golden

So how did I end up in all the hurting

Of noises and sounds made from chilling

And of pain made from hurting?

That was called village blissing

I do call this a city chaosing intp killing.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014