My love, may I ask this pandemic
to return to its abode with the thorns
of unwelcome gift–spiked red-eyed
bouquet of dreads to caress our land.
This visitor shouldn’t impose his will
on the holder of deeds, stroking the hair
of the young, leaving the old panting
until their last breath.
Maybe you’ll remember —
when this is all gone and forgotten,
who slipped out from the darkness
of night to find your face alone.
Everything conceals uncertainty
like doubt, fear, cold dreams,
endless nightmare, misery, noises
of silence; only blind ones see.
Alas, will the border open to cast out
the uninvited visitor with its cobwebs
of darkened eyelids–
And now, slowly, we return to normalcy.
_________
Chris Ulasi is on the Editorial Board of The West African Pilot News. He contributes stories about culture and tradition, elite politics, ethnicity and national integration, civil society, and social movement. He is a university professor, community builder, poet, film producer, recording the emergent Nollywood cultural history through film.
© 2020
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