`
Òjòjò,
wind from the weary caves,
should I pray for the steam
the steam that flies from the black pot?
this crave for a cliff
where my soul has no strength...

Òdòdó,
where you kept this yearning soul,
that threshold of Òsun's wand,
slippery!
and these broken heels can't be healed,
without àrán - àrán eni eléni?

Ìkókó,
the pestle peels not the yam,
behave like the immortal;
you peeled it -
you shred the dread with ìyá ìlù;
of this adúmáadán, you talked like bàtá.

Ìkòkò,
the down so cold,
and yet you want the hot pepper;
if àrán is not one's,
can't one steal this flower?
But I heard a song:
Àrán dùn'ní,
Sùgbón kí n se Àdùnní.
Lo te pá mó'sé,
Isé ní'se.

#Balogunwrites
#BalogunTheMinstrel
#poetry

� Esther Adeyemo