Green Leaf Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

In a breeze, the green
leaf stretches a field

rolling out the paw falls
of a racing hare, a lion
having coughed in a dry gust.

An ambling leopard
having growled, as a soft
gale cut through

the loud mouths of aged
tree trunks' leather barks
brushing each other

with the rod-fingered
spidery arms
of a creeping hurricane
bouncing in with pine leaves.

(ii)

From mountains
drifting
and cartwheeling
on green-leaved valleys,
with an ashy sun

slicing shadows into pieces
of chirping insects
with little steam
and scream of light,

only the leaf
of a flowering ginger
shines a star's light,

life never sinking
into a shadow,

but a dwarfed shrub
standing tall
with a popping red flower.

(iii)

In the wind
the green leaf
flips out and sifters a leaf
of dust, a brown
leaf spat out

a flying a palm juggling
with cutting winds,

as butterfly-winged scissors
and shears hang
in wheeled cruising air.

The clinking wind
dives round the edge
of a palmate leaf

weaving and waving
the large green hand
that never bows
forever, as sun
shines through night.

(iv)

O shears above hairs
of wind over
a green leaf spinning
spiders and scorpions

from the whisked
tail of a storm,

as the sun lowers
sharp-rayed flags
and spinning light,

when dragging daylight
doesn't devour green rivers
of leaves flowing
with emerald leafy clouds.

Bouncing out
of the darkening hug
of night diving into a crater,

a leaf straightening out
of its withered hand
in curls and forced fists

punching off razor-edged
streaks of dancing lightning.

Shave off gray hairs
of a silver evening,
but slip by the green leaf
expanding into an emerald
lake under the wings of a glowing moon.