In the court of clouds where silence spoke,
God turned to Satan—
Have you seen my servant, Job?
Blameless, upright, untouched by storm.
And the serpent smiled:
Strip him bare,
And watch the truth emerge from flesh and dust.
This, the seed of all we know—
What if all we know
Was planted in soil not made for roots?
What if certainty was only shadow
Thrown by a flickering flame?
We built our towers on the bones of "thus says,"
Etched belief into blood,
Taught the child to kneel
Before they asked why?
And in our hunger for the sky,
We forgot to read the earth.
Yet the earth remembers.
It remembers Job,
Ash-covered, arguing with silence,
Not for loss—but for meaning.
He did not curse the sky,
He questioned it.
And in the question
Was the shape of change.
What is growth but the betrayal of ignorance?
What is evolution but love made bold
Enough to let go
Of what once was sacred?
We speak in tongues
Not only of angels,
But of ancestry.
Tribal tongues, national songs,
Creeds that divide,
Skin that defines,
Flags that wave like gods.
Brother turns from brother,
For worshiping another name
Of the same breath.
Yet each war sings the same song:
This truth is mine alone.
And each peace whispers,
We were never meant to be alone.
Unity is not sameness.
Diversity is not dissonance.
Both are seasons
In the orchard of becoming.
Winter and spring
Obey both the sun
And the soil.
We are made of both.
And the Creator—
Not tethered to time,
But bending it—
Waits.
Waits not in temples,
But in turning.
Not in altars,
But in awakening.
There’s an Ogoni saying:
You do not explain a parable
To one born of its tongue.
For meaning given too soon
Becomes a cage,
But meaning found
Becomes a path.
Let the young find the fire,
Not in the telling,
But in the burn—
And rise from it,
Knowing.
So let us come down—
Down from the myths that made us cruel,
Down from the hills of inherited hate,
Down to earth
Where truth grows slow
But roots deep.
Let us meet there—
Not to be right,
But to be real.
Not to conquer,
But to understand.
Let the dust we are
Remind us of what we’re not.
And what we might yet become.