Atimbo

My spirit flows with a river,
Behind Malabor running
With the plantain trees towards the silent hills
My spirit runs like the laughing waters
Into the heart of a community, afloat on the thrill
Of peaceful Calabar afternoon


The hills waiting as we come, always
Waiting like bulls
At Obudu, their torsos warm and rugged,
Waiting for the caress of the running fingers
Of rivulets and arching cornfields


The running waters call:
Return
Return
Re-
Turn
To our cherished secrets


I will always return to the tenderness
Of a drumming waterway,
Atimbo!
Atimbo!
Atimbo!
It echoes still in my longing soul…