'The sun will rise again' by Noah Oladele

Memories are journeys we come into

beyond the walls of the mind –

like Chibok, closing in,

slowly, to an early embrace;

an embrace that chokes into

a fragile submission;

for we are all travelers waiting

for the first sign of light –

the sun, in orange, leadin

to the prologue of things to come.

Like history molding our lives

into a face, the sun rises into

a shape falling apart –

half on a Biafran imagination,

doting yellow on a hopeful chlorophyll.

The other half forms a memory

wafting through Maiduguri, Kano, Jos

to make a history of charred imageries

and splintered limbs.

But the sun also wishes to be seen

in colours other than a wailing gold

or a crimson that hovers

over a Borno market.

Colours are made of something attractive

like the communion of fire,

union of blue, red and green,

pummeled into a bed of ashes

and ashes are cycles of rebirth.

Healing begins as a green imagination

and bruised cactuses with

a body of pores and thorns,

self-healing from clotting sap.

The sun will appear as light

to these travelers, witnesses

of one collective symphony:

in a Lagos suburb, Jos, Kano

Sokoto, Rivers, Ibadan, Abuja

Sometimes,

all we need is a miracle

to understand the patience of the sea

and the healing scions

holding onto the tendrils of green.

for the sun will rise again and again

and again, to speak of soft beginnings.

Noah Oladele is a 300-level student of the Department of English, Faculty of Arts, Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife, Osun State. He finds pleasure in drawing and great inspiration from music.

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