Bowing With Daniel Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(at the lion's den)


(i)

I prey on an orison
muttered at the altar
of a sea's swollen belly,
as I lie in bed

facing the far-flung
rolling moon-lit
curves of silver waves
under a sky
of sparks puncturing air

with new stars
hanging down on night's
graphite tree.

I hurl off arrows
from a catapult of pain
mauling me
with a lion's claws
and canines,

molars scraping sin's skin
to glaze a spot
with the feline's tongue,
as I wince
without sniveling like a baby.

(ii)

And when sea waves
rise with the hurricane storm
of my sins

drowning me in ropy
waters of high seas,
I light up
my inner self with a sun

of night from
the blurting flame
of a candle
from an overflowing
waxy mouth.

I sink deep
into the sea's bottom
to scoop out umber silt.

I scoop with a bow
the swirling
color of sin in silt
beneath
the floor of a regolith

carrying Daniel to bow
with me,
as earth's core burns me

into the brown flamy
goldenrod dandelion
of a lion's mane.

(iii)

Jump and bounce on,
O flame from an asteroid
in my inner self

that burns a quiet lion
into the bright twinkle
of a lighthouse.

O fire of a mane
lighting up
the waxy tongue
of a rising blade wave

to steer me to Daniel
in the roaring flames
of dawn's horizon
for the deepest orison.