Author Information
LILY OF THE VALLEY
Lily,
you will be dearly missed
with your radiant smile
in the early morning time,
is just prime.
“Filwoha,”
at best
you became my silent secret treasure chest.
That deserves much needed rest.
In the short,
but blessed season
it stand to reason.
I failed to know your mind.
Your distinct royal African glide
across an unfamiliar place,
like a precious blue diamond piece
passing through a garbage heap.
Your soft gentle elegance
with your hypnotic Shewa accent
has given me an intoxicating taste
of your unforgettable place.
I have heard a few line
on the wind of time,
that you are a child of Entoto.
But I deeply wish
to voyage to ancestral grounds,
and see the foot of the Mount,
to plant some lilies in the valleys.
I hope one day
you will go back home,
and take me on your return way
in the coming month of May.
I heard you are from Addis Ababa
chosen by Empress Taytus
and founded by Menelik II in 1886.
Etiopia the original home of man,
a breathing land,
where mountains stand erect
like perky breast
in defence of a mighty people too long at rest.
The enormous hills
swell with fat from the land
like engorged nursing mammary glands.
Where the mountain of the moon
spills her milk into the continuous birthing of the nile
flowing from south to north
feeding the land as the river grows wild.
Many have tried to take her
and many have died protecting her.
For the land fights back
in fighting for her Clan.
So take me home
to where the animals roam,
and the Stone-Church sits
among the ancient runen.
Take me home
to my original home
where mankind was born
in the age of stone.
Take me home
to my linguistical home
where all phonetic chirp
is known,
and the alphabet hints
at a true “Rosetta-Stone”
in language-sounds
which can be easily found.
Take me home
to where the “Tree of Life”
bury her roots in black loam,
and “Lucy” left
her beloved nest.
Ten
ten thousand years ago
on her world quest.
Take me home
to your realm
where the “Ark of the Covenant” rest
without protest.
To be free from the distress
of four hundred years of
being suppress.
So I can truly rest.
Legal Poet
