BEAUTY

Beauty.
There. The name I call you.
When I think of your romance.
The honey droppings you coo
Taking me to heights of pleasure.
Blissing me out.

Beauty.
The colour of pollen sprinkled
On the ovary of my mind.
When You sigh, when You speak.
Impregnating my soul with little You’s.
Birthing futures untold.

Beauty.
It’s the avatar of Your words
Taking shape, casting shadows
On the walls of my beating heart.
Making my petals into wings
Teaching butterflies in my tummy to dance.

Beauty.
From down in the brooks and rivers
All through the scrolls and letters
As the Great Nebuchadnezzer
Witnessed, No book had ever
Recorded Your fullness. Ever.

Beauty.
There. The name I call you.
When I remember Your intimidating love.
Of how Mighty You are in all things but one.
Your need and desire for me.
Beauty without Flaw.
My Yahweh.

Nonso John
© 2019

Wrongly Tuned

For quite some time now,
My ideology about you has been skewed,
I realized I have been grazing on the wrong grass, but how?
You see, I have always yearned for us to be tight, like a nut and screw,
But the only problem is I have been using a wrong tool to drive,

I wanted a star but my lines were flat,
I wanted your warmth but my body was far,
I wanted to dance to your tunes but I was tuned wrongly,

But today, after hearing what he had to say,
Rightly, I right my wrongs,
Now, I worry less about Your voice,
And more about knowing you
Come to think of it,
What kind of a son yearns for the voice of the father,
When he doesn’t even know how his words sound like,
So this morning, I seek right!

g.O.D
© 2018