by Ernest Armah

I found what I never met,
Thought what I never learnt,
Dreamt what I never saw,
Shouted…with a voice I never had,
A thunder of enlightenment had struck my mind’s core,

Domiciled in brood,
I felt reconciled to my true hood,
A place I can’t fake a sense of belonging,
Where truth, of mind and soul sprout,
Loftiness, of vision laid on action, flourishes,
A garden of integrity,
Under a cloud of hope,

A troposphere of brave hearts,
Under which gravels lay,
From which hands are called upon to work,
Dreams are built,
Seeable, touchable materials, once figment of the mind,
Are placed on the earth’s crust