Frederick Kwesi Great Agboletey

Glasgow, Scotland

An unforced moment

Clouds a cross a bright sky

 A sudden dip, a grip of chill

Thoughts seemingly laid to rest come streaming over numb edge

My morning sun turns into storm clouds of un-tempered emotions laid to rest come alive -

What does it matter what ought to be that is not

What really ought to be is, is forming or yet to be

Thoughts, expectations, things desired in some immature state of being

What is, is and is reality -

Grand overture of peculiarly toned midnight chorus

Sad songs sang by beautiful, velvet voices

My tears, a burning stream carving channels

Memories flow, like always, deepening river valleys of time -

What is, what ought to be

Strength in obedience

Despair and despondence in failure

David shivering in old age, Solomon mourning Absalom -

Christ on Calvary

Agony of obedience,

rusted nails and shredding timber

Stench of death

Glorious acclamation of victory – It is done! -

Of what is and what ought to be

Silence hanging between mood and mind

Verses recited in silent hours of dawn’s indifference

Frozen mornings when chill is cutting breathe shredding lungs heaving -

Celestial allegiance elegant unmediated

My sober faith and eternity in silent vigilance

My alternate reality of angels in gentle attendance

Grand glory of heavenly chorus proclaiming praise, and then only silence -

In these grand vistas of Heaven spread above

Amidst light of glorious presences

Free is our will secured by obedience

Morning prayers sung by tradition in chaste Latin –

Solemn acquired faith

Living through a sense of dignified belief

Held in bosoms clasped against indifference

Lest in letting go we lose all -

Child, a memory forged in distance

Flesh of my flesh, blood of mine, a stranger wary

Imaginary love fading in light of reality

Silence of weeping heart echoing in emptiness -

Little arms stretching across empty space reaching out
Fragile life, love seeking a solace shared, then

Just yawning emptiness of silent space

How do make up for what is not? -

Inspiration coming at dawn

Silence riding quietness

A filling of nothing

A thing that is and yet not -

II

Cutting edge of sorrow

A glint of sharp wisdom

Slicing in clean cuts

Incisive inspiration on morn of a new day -

You who have travelled so far

Have you found peace at end of road?

Even as you learn new ways of living

So much noise yet so little to hear -

III

In this sudden glow of sunny afternoon

Heat of summer afternoon redolent of lazy ease

I perceive a distant land

A town set on a sandbar set between two great water bodies –

A raging, noisy restless Atlantic with its bromide of dashing waves on golden sands

A quiet slush of mighty lagoon stretching far beyond eye sight

A vast plenitude of shimmering water dancing in hot tropical sun

A place in tropical sun….-

In lonely  world of life

In quiet niches of enabled room

We tend to catch glimpses

Snatching bits of pieces of a wholesomeness that we often do not quite grasp –

In that constant unceasing flow of action that life is

These glimpses of inspired reality is all that matters

At such moments we gain perspective of something grand and wonderful

A part of which we are –

There are many times when streaming flow of life pauses

For an instant, we are set face to face with a thing

Against which we stand alone, a thing no one can understand, experience or appreciate

But one person facing a moment stilled but momentarily in time –

At that moment one’s vulnerability shrinks into nothingness

All help being futile,

One comes face to face with fate and fate’s designator

At such moments of singularity nothing else matters other than your faith -

There are times of truth

When there is no playing to mocking gallery of irrelevance

There is a time and a few more when one stands face to face with truth

An unforced moment facing lonely truth -