THE WALLS HAVE EARS
Ògiri l’étí, you should know that.
Unravel me, the mysteries beckon,
I lean in, parallel with the conduit.
Ògiri, speak that I may convey;
Night falls and sleep arises, like you, I do not last clear-headed.
Only you hold the secrets, tell me that I may rest.
Ènìyàn l’étí, it’s a given.
But do not beseech my words, only use your ears,
For listen, I do and listen, you shall, too.
Your fallacy holds you mistaken; secrets breed unrest.
What you seek, you only find abundant in the ignorant and the dead.
Ènìyàn, make silence a guest.
I am disturbed, Ògiri. One who knows seeks to know more,
Grooves a path untreaded,
My death will find me, I implore; the point of withholding, I find in mootness.
In leaning, I listen. I sync and I open up to unravelling.
Whispers of scanty nothings waft all over.
I think I hear something, Ògiri. Break the unknown.
They say life is a mystery. Yet, they say we have life.
We are life and its mysteries, the paradox.
Lost in who we are.
We draw breaths and paint pictures of death, Ènìyàn.
How do you not see that you are what you seek?
I seek because I am lost,
I am more important than the mysteries I seek.
They linger, overarchingly, like clouds obscuring the light.
The crest of life’s puzzle suppresses us- man and woman alike.
You who listen, convey and chart my course.
In knowing, I find the why.
And the how approaches, docile as the hunter’s dog.
Ènìyàn, lost because he is lost, and he seeks, predicated only on that.
If you embody the mystery that you are,
How can you be more important than yourselves- man and woman alike?
How can one part command such importance if each part is completely necessary?
I get it now, Ògiri.
The walls have ears and they unravel things.
I do too and demystify, I shall.
What I seek to find in others, I listen to in myself.
The how subdues they why and if you listen keenly,
The why dies, six feet under, decadent.