The Sixth Day Poem by Adeoye Adetoba

Come, let us have a drink of my palm-wine
In a place where no coloured lines are drawn.
Let us drink and be merry,
Let our wine erode our minds
Beyond consciousness;
Till our heads become soaked in the calabash.
Let us be filled with wine
And roll over one another
Like children on the field of mud
Until we stumble deep into sleep.

And when the morning sun shines again,
The skies and the vegetations looking anew.
We reawake on the sixth day.
Out of the mud we rise,
Our minds, blank tablets,
Inscribed upon with inks with no colours.
Our eyes, blinded to the colours
That carved us apart.

And roll over one another
Like children on the field of mud