THE CALL OF THE RIVER NUN BY GABRIEL OKARA

I hear your call!

I hear it far away;

I hear it break the circle

of these crouching hills.

I want to view your face

again and feel your cold

embrace; or at your brim

to set myself and

inhale your breath; or

like the trees, to watch

my mirrored self unfold

and span my days with

song from the lips of dawn.

I hear your lapping call!

I hear it coming through;

invoking the ghost of a child

listening where river birds hail

your silver-surfaced flow.

My river’s calling too!

Its ceaseless flow impels

my found’ring canoe dawn

its inevitable course.

And each dying year

Brings near the sea-bird call,

the final call that

stills the crested waves

and breaks in two the curtain

of silence of my upturned canoe.

O incomprehensible God!

Shall my pilot be

my inborn stars to that

final call to Thee

O my river’s complex course?