Mineshaft Of Bush Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

We dug deep
and scooped out
man-making
earth on earth.

We dug deep
through
the dry bushes
and sands.

Through swamps
steering us
to the spot.

Mushroomed
shrubs and vines
undulating

until sun
and star shot
our eyes

at the lynched
man, a weevilled
piece of wood,
half-rock.

(ii)

Half mountain
too,
but an exploding

volcano

erupting with
magma's fire
growing
into a gold tree,

its curved
branches
and flying leaves
specks
and yellow patches
of flames.

Flowering
into taller
flames to touch
the sky's eye

that saw
BIR khaki men
roast him
in this cauldron
of earth.

(iii)

O agrimony,
we wear
garlands
of your leaves
and bow

to you and to you
alone
for the gem find.

Like a phoenix,
the man will
rise back to narcissus
and daffodils
under a bamboo tree.

By a wind-woven
bouquet
of galanthus
and hyacinthus,

we let
jacaranda ribbons
spray us
with their confetti,

a spotted deer
leading
us to a crane
on a pine tree,

the only perched
gemstone
we scooped out
from air without
digging.