N ow the bells are tolling –
a year is dead.
And my heart is slowly beating
the Nunc Dimittis
to all my hopes and mute
yearnings of a new year.
And ghosts hover round
dream beyond dream
Dream beyond dream
mingling with the brightest gleam.
Bell-sounds fading
into memories
like rain drops
falling into a river.
And now the bells are chiming –
a year is born.
And my heart-bell is ringing in a dawn.
But it’s shrouded things I see
dimly stride
on heart-canopied paths
to a riverside.
Why? African culture, so interesting, somebody should tell me and lets enjoy it.
Gabriel Okara, one of Africa’s very best. For me, he sits just below Chinua Achebe himself on the poetry shelf, with his descriptive power.