Another one from my poetry scrap book.. Wrote this one while serving the fatherland in Kwara State.. This was inspired while watching some “white-garment” chruch devotees dance and clap from the window of the class where i was invigilating an exam… Enjoy it….

The Dance of the Mountain god…
The claps begin,
Slow, petulant,
Like tiny drops of rain which then increase,
As feet pound the rocks, oblivious of the pain,

Higher and higher the tempo goes,
As men stand enthralled in worship of the mountain king,
Exploding sound, compelling throes,
As frenzied claps around the mountain ring.

And then the lull,
As silence like a cloak falls down;
An interlude between booming thunder claps.
The only sound a bell, disturbing the suspense.
A shuffle here, a sniffle there; intimating us of pain.

Then suddenly the claps restart,
Accompanied by the boom of drums,
Clanging cymbals as all take part, with frenzied steps, exploding sounds.
A cacophony berserk; children swaying, women swooning,
Ecstatic noises renting the air.

Building a crescendo, a climax of exploding sound,
Of feet that seem to beat alone,
Of sublime steps somehow gone berserk
In this dance, the dance of the mountain king