by Dayò Ayílárá

i am not now what i should be but what i gasp like the
dim lamp, which is running out of oil, and time, oh Lord
is in your hands alone; my wool is short, my lantern is
rusty - far from new. this slippery ground is stealing my 
feet away from the fold, but Good Shepherd,
since you know my feeble frame, and how i
hold unto your name, night and day, shall 
you not replace my wool and make me burn again? shall you not
fill me to the brim so that i burn lively as you want?

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Dayò Ayílárá is a lawyer, business consultant, cartoonist, graphic designer, and calligrapher. He writes from Abuja, Nigeria. His poetry focuses on nature, the beauty in pain, hope, love and loss.

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