The Incantations Of Odolaye Aremu- (The Traditional Psalm 33)
Odolaye is the elusive river that refuses
to be tied in a secured knot.
He’s the vacuous space, the wise couldn’t think well to
entrap in his own two palms.
A tree-stump with its center of gravity firmly rooted,
clipped all the way into the supporting earth.
A spirited man of valor once tried uprooting it, he wore himself out, shimmering all over.
The racing shadow, yet of a figure standing still.
Odolaye is the four-intersecting junctions-
the meeting place of the gods, vagabonds and wandering spirits.
He’s the showering Rain with not one reasonable enemy.
The sprinkling dew that sheds on all the heads it sees,
and such others left unprotected.
The sonorous Gong that announces the beginning of life and sorrowfully-it’s inevitable end.
He who has no roof,
yet hides under the tower of Edumare.
He hasn’t a match to start a fire,
not a single pot or cooking utensils
yet eats the freshest meal ever cooked!
A Hound who suffers not a moment’s hunger
as long as Esu-Odara’s address remains the same at Orita!
Odolaye is the smelting sunlight-
How bold is anyone to stare right, or long at the
Sunshine-in His glowing face with the naked eyes?
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He’s the natural grace of the newborn-
as cute or as unsightly as that baby could ever be,
A grim face relaxes, loosen up,
to drop a warm smile to accord its bountiful innocence.
To capture the allure of a newborn-
the most restless, the heaviest combative arms must first form
a close alliance to shelter the spirit of its essence.
At the end of a given day;
a man’s wrath against his own head- won’t give in to his
foolishness to crown his own buttocks in pounds of Gold.
And if he’s really that angry with his Chi- he still would need
other sets of hands to help behead himself.
Odolaye is the African Mamba,
Please watch what, or where,
or thereupon you intend to stretch the feet to dare step!
As weirdly enough-
He’s in the guise of the Milk-snake;
a totally harmless serpent, yet confusing
in its biomimicry.
You must approach it with diligence,
for as you think to pick the Milk,
it could just be its deadly cousin, the Coral that you pick up.
A case of death, by Mistaken Identity.
The Man is the Jalapeño,
small but feisty, indeed remarkably mighty!
The naked eyes could be the ones to testify to it’s
torturous potency!
A relentless, but tiny pin that’s totally inedible for a giant Rooster.
All in all;
He has the world, yet has only himself to play with.
Even the strongest of all men, to note his own sanity
cannot call himself to battle or;
engage himself in a wrestling match.
