Every night in Jos,
angels wielding brushes of light
borne on clouds of colour
tiptoe down from celestial heights,
and alight soundlessly on a world stilled by sleep…
…then with impish glances fore and aft,
dart through slumbering streets
smile through windows at snoring humanity
deftly duck the doddering drunks
as they flit feverishly
from bush to shrub,
shrub to flower,
flower to blade,
smearing
daubing,
smudging
dipping
overwhelming all as far as the eyes can see
in hues
and dyes
and shades
and tints
that outrainbow the rainbow
Next morning…
The world wakes up to beauty
And everywhere you turn
You’re spellbound by loveliness
By Paul C Nwabuikwu.
