Tag Archives: Poems

If Only

Life I’ve seen is full of good, just as much as there’s evil.
It also is full of Light, just as much as there’s darkness.
Sometimes, things go so ugly as though it’s of the devil.
Such times, I often wonder with a heart in restlessness.

If only there were no wars, we would always live in peace.
With love and joy in the air, we would live in unity.
As friends in bond we would be, like couples in endless bliss.
As fights and strife will be not, a life of tranquillity.

If only there were no death, we would never have to die.
Forever we all would live, with loved ones in company.
Tears of mourning, we won’t cry, neither would we say goodbye.
Family and friends shall be, just so much and so many.

If only there were no wrongs, then we would always be right.
We would never make mistakes, nothing to be sorry for.
There would be no punishment, be it heavyweight or light.
Things well would always be done, and good news heard would be more.

If only there were no hate, we would always dwell in love.
If only there were no lies, we would always know the truth.
If only there were no lack, there would be less problems to solve.
If only things were different, perhaps our pains it would soothe

But in this do I find rest, all things in life have their place.
Unwanted as they may seem, they still try to find some use.
For perhaps if death was not, Life might be an endless race.
Where all men would run and run, with nothing to gain or lose.

(C) 2010. Peter Akhere.

Confused

Alone in the dark, he wanders.

Searching for the Light.

Awaiting the glimmer of that ray

That proceeds its arrival.

Lost within himself, he wonders,

What the missing piece might be.

Skilled in the art of puzzles,

But with square pegs for round holes.

 

A stitch in time saves nine.

And to every purpose, there is a time.

He must not delay,

Else, the fruit gets rotten.

Should he be too fast,

It is plucked unripe.

 

Still he awaits the Light,

To reveal what is hidden.

To show what must be done,

And even when to get it done.

 

©Peter Akhere.

MIRROR IMAGE

Love your neighbour as yourself…
Thus goes the scriptures.
But what if that neighbour is myself,
An image of reflected pictures.

I looked at you and saw a most familiar face.
I listened to your words and heard the echo of my voice.
So I came to hold your hand and I felt my heart race.
Amidst confusing options, I took you for my choice.

Time and time again, discontented my mind was,
Yet to reject, my heart would not partake.
For when I tried, my back to turn against yours,
I saw myself as the image I forsake.

So here I stand looking into the mirror
Seeing your eyes staring back at me
And no matter what I see as a blemish or an error,
I am reminded that you are a part of me.

(C) Peter Akhere

Age And Wisdom

I have been young and I am still young

but the wise have taught me that wisdom is not a function of many years long.
That knowledge is not reflected in the grey scale of a man’s hair,

but in the quality of words proceeding from his tongue.

So make no assumptions – that the old is always right and the young is always wrong.
For if we would let Nature teach us, we could gain direction even by a bird’s song.

(C) Peter Akhere

 

The Prodigal

Here I stand humbled, with face bowed in shame.
Yes I have fumbled and disgraced your name.
But what can I do, to redeem my place.
This I ask of you, that you show me grace.

As I stand, I cry. I mourn for my loss.
As I cry, I try, to reach for the cross.
Cleanse me, this I pray, rid me of my woe.
And wash me today, make me white as snow.

All I ask is this, that you call me son.
And to have your kiss, like a child just born.
I long for a taste, of your soothing rain.
For this I make haste to feel once again.

Take me and restore, light up my darkness.
For you I adore, of you have reverence.
To you I have come, to none I will go.
For me you did come, and this I do know.

You did give me all, and I did not lack.
But I had a fall, to you turned my back.
Restore unto me, that which I have lost.
Please uplift me, raise me from the dust.

For this I will sing and lift up my voice.
You alone are king and I will rejoice.
You are kind to all, in grace not frugal.
So to you I call as a prodigal.

(C) Peter Akhere