The Song of the River

Let the river flow, Unfettered and free, Its glinting surface, A mirror of divinity. Each droplet a tale, Of the sun’s gentle rays, Woven in the fabric Of the earth’s ancient dance.

For in its winding path, Secrets lay like stones, Whispered stories of existence, Of lovers turned to bones, Yet still it carries on, The weight and grace of time, An eternal hymn sung By the chorus of the wild.

— Wole Soyinka

• Wole Soyinka