The Mountain’s Call

In the shadows of the mountains, Where the ancients weave their tales, I stand beneath their might, At the edges of the trails. Their peaks, a kingdom’s crown, With steadfast, silent power, They tower over valleys, Time, a mere flower.

Each stone is a memory, Of the earth’s tumultuous fight, The lava of creation, Now sits in tranquil light. I seek their silent wisdom, In the rumbles of the stone, Where nature’s heart beats louder, Than the tyrant’s lonely throne.

— Wole Soyinka

• Wole Soyinka