ColumnsFiction & PoetryLifestyle“Your moan is a light unto my path…” —Acclamation of Mr. Willie

I am a blessed man.

Why would I not be enlarged when your warmth

envelopes me like the morning dew?

Why would my cup not run over when this duo called lips

perform skilfully round my crown?

Why would I not chant when those proud slick guards

swing at my nudge to lead me in- with its grip?

Why would I not flourish seeing I am grounded

in a land flowing with milk and honey?

Why would I not soar when you ride on me,

your butt flapping as wings like the eagle’s?

Why would I not rise when you raise me from obscurity

up so high into ecstasy, I ascend,

ready as a rocket,

into the space of your marvel-filled hips.

Even though I walk through the valley of your hood

I fear no strange place

for your moan is a light unto my path

and a guide unto my goal.

You are my confidante;

your holy of holies immaculate;

I bow before your throne.

You know my length and breadth.

My longings and laggings,

you engulf and upgrade.

When my status is probed,

I know I am a great man

for indeed,

I am like a tree planted by the rivers of waters;

one whose cup runneth over

and stands high on mountains.

I am a blessed man.

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