PEOPLE ARE MY WINGS

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PEOPLE ARE MY WINGS

I am a bird
Created without wings
My furs are light
And my skin is open to the wind.

My eyes are bright
I’m focused like an eagle
I see clearly even at night
And the sun’s light never scares my vision
So I’m both nocturnal and diurnal.

I’m a singer
Nightingales praise me too
I sing morning and night
I have no water
I have no food
But when I sing, my stomach is filled.

Call me a mysterious bird
I will concur with glee
I’m not jealous because I admire other birds as they fly
But as they fly, the melody from my poor mouth
Attract them, and they thank God for my voice.

On the Iroko’s zenith I aim to sing;
A tree where the eagles dine
A tree where all eyes begs to eye
A tree where the angels pray that we attain
But unfortunately not all attains.

Daily I become kin to sing on its top
Because I believe my voice has a hope
Though still poor
And having heard people around attesting to its melody
As they clap for me at the sound of my voice
My head rose up and I started singing:
People are my wings!
People are my wings!

Their clapping became a fuel
Their clapping became my strength
And in my mind, I saw invisible wings
Then I rose them up, clap them and began to fly
I began to fly, and began to fly as I sing:
People are my wings!
People are my wings!

As I fly higher to dine with the eagles
As I fly to make my voice heard
As I fly to perch on the great Iroko
I won’t forget you even amidst the cruising air
Because I have no song to sing except:
People are my wings!
People are my wings!

© Francis Onwuchuruba (30/08/2017
Twitter @Francisdpoet




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