It was only a little moment in history,
Triggered off by a person
Diminutive and ignoble,
Bringing about a great storm of event
To change the trend of the course
Of our collective psychic forever.
It would require
No drumming of dins,
No clatter, no rattle
Which will trickle the inner ear to deafness.
It would not need to bring a blank bang
To release such enormity of energy:
A change to bring a change,
A reckoning to arise one not one.
It may be you or it may be me,
So long as you and me are not
Figures yet in the public’s eyes.
It would be somebody
And anybody could not be this somebody.
Someone, driven one, would be the one:
One goaded by the zephyr of the time
In the clime of expansive agitation.
What would bring that great change deserved?
Maybe a man, or a woman, or a boy, or a girl,
Or be it a baby, yet unborn.
The action might be a simple thing
Like a thread dropping down into the sea,
And making nothing like an undulating disturbance.
That person will come, want it or not,
Not in the evening, not in the morning,
Not even the person knows this warped destiny
Nor the gentle senses that wakens in the mind,
That person will not know
Before the moment of this cause of action,
Possibly never dreamt of it, just that it will happen,
Holding us up, all folded.
Many have dreamt of that day, many will dream of it,
But that moment will come,
Even that who will bring it up
Will find themselves dozing off
While it occurs.
© Olawale Famodun
Excerpt from the book “Poems Of Redemption”
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