Day 9

1.
There is a bus stop bench
that used to be
Part of the largest tree
in a forest

It
does not think about
the benefits of its past life,
it just waits to be useful in this one

The pain of remembering
a past life in this one
Would splinter stillness
If realizations of purpose
Were not fast forward glimpses
into the quilts of Eternity

2.
A man waits
for a bus that is late
He used to ride ones
on streets paved with
faces like his

Unlike most Nigerian men
his past is more his present
than indicative of it
He has been soft before the battering
And being the cushion himself
there was no thud from
falling from grace

A woman with a face stoned
into the pavement of his country approaches
looking like she knows how to tell a story

3.
As he never guesses wrong
Their paths have crossed
They have had the same gravel under their feet
Explaining why they look similar:
From falling face first,
him softer than her

The dangling remembrance
of what it means to be from earth,
mixed with what it means to be
hard as a rock
Shake from her face with every laugh
that stealing glimpses from
the underside of eternity's quilt
bring

Being a cushion himself
it is easy to see the blanketing comfort
of the past in this man
and feel obligated to it

Strength sits in her,
of the essence of earth,
the resilience of stone,
importance of thread,
and its frailty
It is anxious always
for a chance to be of use
...So is she

They talk about how
in the 80s
there were only 3 things
in their city
almost as famous as
a Nigerian Micheal Jackson,
King Sunny Ade,
and Nollywood films

"Everything was such and such,
this film broke my heart,
our government has always been...
Our people never were...
If it happens again,
I wont be a part of..."

Not from arrogance
but amusement
and humility
She omits any knowledge connecting
her to certain things,
most importantly
her name

Musters up the opportunity for
leave and vitality
in the form of an arriving bus,
Then
introduces herself as the third
and most famous thing,
and a mouth flies open
to let out a
"My, you've... aged"

A bench
and a woman
look at a bus stop,
smiling

Half trying to keep from crying
Half remembering past lives
and new purpose

The pain of remembering a past life,
in this one,
would splinter stillness
without this realization
as a forward glimpse
into eternity



......My mother, was the crown jewel of our city,..........once