Faith Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

In an onyx-lined
mahogany
and butterscotch cloud
spat by a volcano's
mouth coughing out

clear cream
and silver skies
flipped out
and cartwheeled

into a pearl
and powder air
by God's hands,
blows a breeze of faith
into love's hearth.


(ii)

Faith is a seedling
you mulch
from its shoot
till it grows
into a tree
stroking sky's feathers.

It's grown from air's
cream
and silver giant bird,
its wingspan
sky's stretch to limitless
swinging horizons

built of hope's bricks
and cemented
with afterfeathers
of cotton
and alabaster air.

It's a plant taller
than a Hyperion
tree, its crown
stroking God's brow
in a stretchy space
wallowing amid

dusk's pink
and scarlet clouds
and dawn's
indigo and crimson's
glowing beryl.

(iii)

O cobalt-lined
ceiling breathing out
sun and a cerulean
morning hue.

Giving birth to birds
far below
God's stroking fingers,

but hair-breadth close
to the Creator,
who's everywhere
in a morning breeze.

And the wind
swelling from a zephyr.

Faith is the crown
of that tree
that whispers and murmurs
from God's lips

babbling
with a flowing stream
of love, a breeze

shot down
from a tower spiraling
with beams
from a lighthouse's
beacons high up

on sky's swaying ceiling
ringing bells
waved by drongo birds.