O God! Why did you make the hands so slow and the thoughts so swift? How can these poor hands capture the whole of it? How can? Why did you not give hands to thoughts? So that man might lie back in his sofa and watch the hands of his thoughts, recreate the Garden of Eden while he relaxes and mellows below in the miracle of Utopia.
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Posted: Oct 2009
About this poem:
This poem is a reflection of my thoughts about my life and indeed the life of most African people of talent. It is about the wonderful endowment in my life yet my inability to fully realize my immense potential. I wrote it because I was frustrated about my life at the time. (I doubt if that has changed) I know so much yet I earn so little, while in Africa. I desire to be able to change the fortunes of my country of Nigeria positively but I do not have the wherewithal to venture into politics. I think I know the solutions to the economic and social problems of Africa but I do not have the platform to effect the needed reforms or revolution. Then frustration sets it. If I did not write the poem, perhaps I would have liked it to rhyme and have a certain rhythm.
Comments (6)
blessings..