Pathfinder
Martins Iyoboyi
Proboscis probes vacant night
Wind, hope-pregnant to cheer
Happy rays, piercing through rejecting
Clouds of dawn; canopied forests
Throw rich shades on struggling shrubs,
Leaning on girths, seeking overhead sun.
Daily nights enclose rosy sepals,
Thin-necked, seeking ventilation,
And dimmed moon, behind lowering clouds,
Grow luminous when fresh zeal,
Opens ray-paths through umbrella tops.
The hope of Lot, when feverish dream
Petrified hard-nosed ears, and distant wreath,
Hovers about misty skies of discomfort,
Through narrow alleys, goblins lurk,
Viewing distance muffle with Lot’s temptation,
And when the proboscis perceives sweet
Paths of crowns, creative impulses
Look on the eye of the sky, smile
At close applause of perusing dawn,
When night is drugged away by day.
