We should be wise and
I have come to know birds in all their flights
are wise and more travelled
than cheetahs and planes. Yes,
they have wings. They chose to fly
than we that chat away our orgasms
in a tit-for-tat razzmatazz social media.

I see them from my window
roof tops and tanks on flowery drapes -
in Obosi see, near the rivers of Niger,
all kinds all wise all busy
camouflaging in the rain clouds
of October afternoon after Mass;
chauffer-driven by the winds
in search of daily manna. Of prophesy
of sermon in the holy books:
Matthew six twenty-five thirty-four,
the word of the Lord thanks be to God!
And we worry crazy
in motivational lines of faith.
Not the birds.
If they should speak and we listen
we will grow wings and fly in wisdom,
worry less and fly more.

Not your crib but your qibla.
Follow Su'eddie and Romeo
in poetry lines.
Flap your wings and take to flight.
Imitate the ways of the birds;
like the birds and nomads,
worry less what tomorrow brings. They'll
fly beyond the campaigns and elections still,
in obedience to the skies. Eating still,
the corns of the fields. Unifier of times and tides, wisdom come
as we roll away wise and fly.