I tread alone on this road that leads to discoveries of treasures,
along the streets of dampened earth
which soaks my humane vision for a serene sandstorm.
As its funnel shaped element dances to my sight,
I’m bemused by its gracious music that hums to my loneliness.
It keeps me in arousal of the next breeze
that welcomes the soothing freshness of spring.
It wraps its wings of selfless glory;
blessing the violet azure raped by a crimson veil,
in this moment as I cruise in this neighboring vine,
as I match on the sand dunes, stamping my footprints.
On this map of allure that I choose to seek my destiny,
I predict my course, hanging to dry its trials.
My forte on this journey is beautifully conspired
to herald a harmonious cry from the bluebirds’ flight.
Assured that man is a mortal mammal,
I glaringly pass many seasons as I further stride.
Without any precise destination my fate is my eyes.
Thus showing me the way to meet my rosy blossoms.
Looming bags and luggage of questions,
immersed in an ocean of fated, eventual film,
will be unpacked to freely roam in the
expanse of a bubbly man’s romance on the walks of dreams.
I walk on happily, alone with my poetry
packed with forms.
Written by: Yakori Mohammed
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.