–—Son of onyame—–
I am the son of Onyame(God),
That oldest God, Nana Nyankopon
of the grayed 500 skies.
Born on a rainy wednesday,
of the heralds of eagles;
on the whispers of owls.
And formed from the belly of
Asaase Efua (mother earth)…
That night out of cold,
the sky spake me of it tongue.
It was the ninth month;
cowries and dried bones foretold…
soothsayers and akomfo (priets) met
at the crossroads to this future, I was born…
I am the son of the invisibles,
nephew of the sweat of the great gods,
a seed from the land of old:
wisdom, gray hair, a spider’s wits
and reincarnated by an arrow of divinity….
A symbol of Twedeampon’s mystery.
I speak not of mere mortal words
nor of words of graving men.
I speak of the words of
Kronkron Nyankopon (God)….
of the great ewuakorfo (ancestors)….
and of the tales of ananse ntontan (webs).
Born out of divinity:
spirituality and legendary sing at my feet.
I am Onyameba (son of God).
made of the bladder
of lightning and thunder.
the eighth heir to the throne of Okormansan (Almighty God)…
From the rhythms of myths,
I have dug a deep well into the belly of awensem (poetry)—
in wait for the harmattan.
From the woods of old,
I have carved a drum of sage—
in wait for the night’s festivity.
Tsetse wo bi ka (the old have stories to tell)…
He who made fire devour water
and caused thunder to strick lightning,
Odomankoma, the mirror of another day
unto you this tale grows with saliva
till it channels itself into the minds of mortals….
The Village Thinker
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