I'm a writer, journalist and teacher. I'm amongst the selected and exhibited artists for VIOREMEN, NLACC against irregular migration, Abuja 2020; a contributory poet for “84 Delicious Bottles of Wine for Wole Soyinka”; longlisted for Libretto magazine Chapbook Publication, 2020, and has other publications elsewhere. I'm a lover of arts, travel and a culture enthusiast.
A man who knows the sky like a bird,
sows a seed, knowing it'll rain.
He looks up to God and says,
let me harvest much more!
He tills the ground with household manures. He says aloud,
"my bounty begins with a seed!"
He waits for rain, then a sprout and then ears.
He prunes his field until he harvests.
From the harvest, he eats some corn and saves some seed,
whispering to his little boy,
"these began as seed; they go back as one."
The boy then puts the seed in a weaved basket,
waits for the planting season, and studies the sky.
The boy becomes a preacher of seeds,
stands, jingling the bell to all who sow.
He stands on the mountain to reach all planters;
he stands on the mountain to reach all harvesters, saying:
Tomorrow's bounty was yesterday's seed.
Sow all you can, but don't eat all you sow.
The wise man listens and echoes in his mind.
All began as a seed; all ends as a seed.
For every buried seed dies to bring a new life.
But, this farmer had sowed a seed that would never die.
The seed multiples;
The seed lives;
The seed, his words.
They have fallen on good soil.
On the good soil, they dwell and linger after the farmer's death.
And like the food, both new lives began as seeds.
How easy to make a plant;
How hard to make a life.
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