River Of The Son

Almost as intriguing as the genesis of the 'word'.

From the ark of life, the son rose to the dark heavens. 

A quiet dialogue between the son and I begot my identity.

Whence the Maasai learnt the Adumu we met his majesty.

The flawed mountains became accentuated by his might.

An unheard-of dawn of upright men began.

Hither only the ark of life can unstay us from existence.

For to the ark of life we are children.

Amidst storms, we optimistically envisioned new dawn.

The flood-swept kingdoms are a revelation of our genesis.

Afore evangelists, nature preached the existence of god.

Our reality was captured by the later-turned-canvas stone.

I am a foreigner to the kingdom of death.

I wed my weary soil with fertile soil to renew my potency. 

By name, infinity knows me!

At the feet of god's physically manifested thoughts,

My soul wandered as peace assumed the throne.

On the rocky surface of the summit, I laid my fears to sleep,

For I witnessed the conception of immortality on the east. 

The son is of the ark of life.

Our languages are antiques in a museum called mind.

Our history is beautifully hidden in our tongue.

Used only to cure the amnesia of the reincarnated souls.

We are the sons and daughters of infinity.

O death and grave where is thy victory?

From the river, I inherited cecity towards borders.

We manifoldly conquered the red sea afore Moses.

A mother is a custodian of infinity,

Those who venerate her being inherit immortality.

I am a son of the ark of life!