Ii. A Traversal Of The Great Rain Maker
Poem By Igwe Kalu
The children of men have come to me,
They say to me
'Give us our word for the rain,
And so to the rain.'
The rain maker stands, betwixt
The faces of men and their retinue of wealth,
And the liberty at the heart of the rain.
But the great man of thought…
'-The rain sleeps, when it wills
Let it be, lest
Its restlessness grows
Mightier than my chest -
'-Let men mourn with the rain,
As does the rain…'