Say a Prayer With Me

I wish that every forehead
placed in gentle knocks
on Olókun’s flat sandy head
—narrating time’s pressing need;
and every joined palms
reciting loosely-jointed Psalms
of “…I shall not want”
after trials and its error-trail
—as life no just balance,
find un-ready-made answers
that’d fit the measure they ask.

Like the saffron flag sways
at the sun’s own majesty
—and lay claims of descent;
and as the cloud’s easy art
fascinates one in the cloud,
—that he lays stairs to heaven,
may your ever-wandering sole
not lose its soul’s sole purpose
but find paths that’d take it close
to a fountain of refreshing peace
in the exact measure that you seek.

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