The Visitor Poem by akachukwu chukwuemeka ( akabeks)

He comes gentle like the evening wind,
His voice is soft like the dew,
His face is the blue sky
And mother earth watches in silence.
His eyes are lucid-fire,
Penetrating this soul alone at the broken bridge,
He calls himself the master of men, the maker of dreams,
He calls himself destiny fulfilled.
To walk with him is fame at fingertips,
But the verses of this female Saint from Sienna filled the air,
"…our will is strong as it conforms to yours, our will
Is weak as it opposes to your will oh! Lord…"
The lonely soul stands ambivalent, the wind is not
Gentle with him,
Heaven delays his sun, and his moon is crescent.
Lucid-fire burns with irresistible intensity,
But the female Saint from Sienna sings louder,
"…abiding in the Lord, we are strong"

© June 2012