The fall


Perhaps, the purpose is
That the map may lead
Not to it, but carry
Its mind like a country
Of wind, possible, but
Quick to bend and
Disappear. Perhaps, it is not
Just the people, the passersby,
But the path too, which
Takes the light over,
And the headlamps to
Say reason is to save.
For me, what are the sorrows
Of this place I stand
Before I call it mine, and
Can you hear them now, the denizens,
The birds in their chorus’s cry
Most of which are saying to
The passersby, it is okay
To rest here under our tree.
Perhaps, the argument
Is the concern that a fruit
May drop from the tree
That doesn’t yet say to
Us, I have always been here,
Or perhaps, that’s all it
Says to us, but we couldn’t
Hear it; perhaps it’s a kingdom
Fall; yet, someone may pick
Up the fruit and match it with
What he knows like someone
Picks the bones of an extinct
Animal, and thinks, I can
Recognize all its parts, someone
Who doesn’t know the fall, but
May be able to say I found this—
I-found-this as it’s in half of
Discovery history or I-found-this
As it’s in political references.
Perhaps, we live just in these
Boundless resources hedging
Us to an end no matter where
We’re standing; perhaps, it is
Chance that will eventually
Matter, the miracle that one stumbles on
A fruit like me and its tree that has
Always been here, at ease; perhaps,
It is the light to say I found
You because I am lost, or
Because there are no lights
Or reason, or I found you
Because I too don’t
Know the fall.

Adeeko Ibukun