Olori (Mystical Refrain) Poem by Doris Dzameshie

She sang as dawn unraveled time,
With prayers that shimmered, soft, sublime.
Her mantle moved the morning air,
Each lyric etched in sacred flare.

Omolomo watched, heart open wide,
One eye in clouds, one deep inside.
The heavens stirred—a veil grew thin,
As Mawu Sogbolisa peeped in.

The Spirit spun a trembling thread,
Through notes that trembled, soared, then fled.
Grace thundered down, no gentle breeze—
It struck her soul and felled her knees.

She clutched the mic like life's last flame,
Her breath, a gasp—her cry, acclaim.
A wail that cracked the veil of sky,
As angels whirled, not drifting—flying high.

Then silence surged—a sovereign tide,
It cloaked the room where light would bide.
The hush was heavy, sharp, profound,
A symphony without a sound.

Olori's voice, a fading star,
Was swept into the skies afar.
Where angels, trembling, took the lead—
And "Holy are You, Lord" broke free indeed.