(after listening to a spoken word by daisy odey)
once, there was a storyteller
who created fires from sparks
who started each tale with ‘let there be’…
a teller of many intertwining tales
who told our universe to be
and in that space,
he killed the darkness, formed the light
filled everywhere, made it bright…
the teller decided to tell another tale
‘let there be…’
a dragged sentence that took nine sticks
and a rubbing of stones
the answer was a tiny spark…
that found movement in four ways…
four feet became two
as seconds multiplied minutes
that aged into years
the tale spiralled on, and formed extensions
that spanned decades through an existence
of much that left in some minds
a steady presence, in others an absence
this tale continued
a fire spreading
burning as it lit others
within, other tales made:
continuations that left everyone amazed…
till finally,
the fire quenched to smoke
the tale came to a halt
it lived on in others and became a narrative
one that continues to be
in a beauty everyone can see
but the fire was meant to be reborn
and so the storyteller…
…decided to add one more
like many other things
the voice said: ‘let there be…’
it was a long sentence that took nine sticks
a rubbing of stones
the answer was a tiny spark…
-©Su’eddie Vershima Agema, 2015.
