a search in the forest

a search in the forest

Sunday, March 3, 2013 / No Comments

I shouldn't be here i know, but what must be done must be done. I staggered through the thick undergrowth. My strength was gradually leaving me as i fought out of the, clasping brambles and grabbing prickle of briars' twigs, the gloom-shine mix, lighting my amply obstructed way. I was losing hope, my body aches so much and my skin sores, I noticed a cleared patch ahead, it stood below an hollow opening between the mahogany trees. I hastened towards this patch, my lips curling into a smile, a smile at its seeming comfort.
I only had to shrug aside some dangling ivy twigs to open up into the patch. It was seeming haven and as I bent to check the moss coloured rock that shone mildly in the patch soft golden radiance, I noticed it was dirty so I cleaned it up with my palm and sat on it. The beauty of the place took my fancy, especially that a great deal of sunlight streaks into it. I eased backward to rest on the tree behind the stone. It was even a more comforting sensation as some cool wind blew southerly towards me. The wind was too cool to be true; I relaxed, enjoying a short rest. I wondered if I haven't ventured into this forest on futility. I've been here since morning and its noon already, am yet to get a glimpse of my sought. After some time I stood up, aiming to track the source of the wind. I walked doggedly creating a crispy sensation as my wearied legs fiddled with the dry leaves that littered the patch floor. I felt less alone as I left the patch advancing towards the wind source. I had this feeling because of strange sounds I heard, the sounds was trickling, with a background soft splashes and mix of animals' sounds. I advanced half curious half scared. The mahogany forest this time around was shorter than the one i started with and had negligible undergrowth. The sounds got louder and lost it distant blur. Soon I found myself before a wonderful spring, and there in front of me lies my reason for being at the forest.
'A live green tree frog.'
I eased my sweeping net from my bag and in one accurate swerve I caught the frog. I tied up the net just below its rim. I advanced towards the spring. It was clear and clean, silvery fishes shoots out of the river periodically, portraying some rare acrobatics. Now I know they are the cause of the splash. A little runlet away from the spring in a northerly direction created the trickling sound.
I dipped my hands inside the river and cupped out some water from the spring. I repeated this three times and enjoyed an awesome thirst quenching.
My journey home was easier having found the frog. Now my precious shall die no more. As i walked home, I began to wander if baba ifa proclaimations shall prevail. I so much need my sweet heart alive, not dead. Only time will tell.

The scare

The scare

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I just finished polishing the last of the swords. Blood cuds stuck on my hands so I reached for clean water, washed my hands and tidied the kingdom arsenal. The war is over, what next? Indignant as our surviving heroes stood, they couldn't celebrate their victory. Thousands of men went for the war, only a few hundred returned. However victory is still victory, only that the surviving should not forget their fallen heroes. Completing the tedious tasks I decided to stroll to my friend's side. it was just a few hundred of meters away. So i merrily approached forgetting a war just finished. I reached Bode's side only to face wailing family members. His dad is a great warrior and this definitely means he didn't make it. I couldn't actually console him, the news skipped my heart, 'if bode dad didn't make it? Oh my dad!’ I made an exasperating dash home. How can I be so dumb thinking my dad is invisible? I've raced more than half the way on my rush home. I was all wet, wearied right to my bone, i was already growing tears.

'God I hope my dad make it, just as he always does.'

I reached home, mum was pacing the sitting rooms, my brothers all seated with strange calm, my heart raced much more. I couldn't control myself and busted into a short powerful sob. Everybody saw the strong me cry that easily, they couldn't believe their eyes. I rushed towards dad room, mum came after trying to pull me back but I wasn't just yielding, I pulled the door open, I saw dad on the bed he was dying, really dying. I rushed towards him. The physician pulled me back, saying; 'my boy calm down, your dad will make it, but right now all he need is a time alone with me.'

I just don't know what to say to him, I stormed out of the room, totally bitter and out rightly washed in tears. As those tears drops I began writing my speech. If dad should recover, he is never ever going to war again; unless he kills me first.