Alternative Eye
By salopia
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'ALTERNATIVE EYE' was prompted by Robert Magoola, a Ugandan
student,
training for the ministry, who was studying at Birmingham
University.
He had the sort of deliberate speech that only Ministers can
manage,
and a totally self-possessed and assured manner.
He wrote freeform poetry in a very immediate and rhythmic style.
He was well-educated and amazed me by his ability to handle modern
technology
- using the internet like I use the phone! So much for the
supposed
backwardness of Central Africa!
ALTERNATIVE EYE
When he laughs,
He laughs
the logic of the soul,
With strange assurance and a certainty
that sits astride his goal
of training others for eternity.
Modern Magoola, following the trail
of fishermen long-past in Galilee;
Netting mankind on the mail
of new technology.
When he sees,
What does he see?
Does Albion appear in vision clouded, like some dawning Ruwenzori
peak,
Remote and indistinct and shrouded
by the ways and words we speak?
And lonely pavements crowded,
night and morning,
with a mindless ritual spawning,
like the salmon in a summer creek.
And what of us?
The English. What thinks Magoola? What did we expect?
A strange and Godly prophet from a tribal land?
With empire history none would resurrect,
nor render homage to an English hand,
save for the lakes where borders intersect
to tell of kings and conquest long since planned.
He writes,
And when he writes,
A poet's path he treads.
With words as stepping stones.
Irrelevant each one,
until we dance their journey and experience
their fun!
And conjure assegai and tribal rhythms
beaten barefoot in the sun.
Nairobi robed,
he shivered in our chilly air,
And couldn't find the way to go - and yet arrived
to tell us of each twist and turn he had to bear.
- The parody of life he had survived
In helpless fortitude from city's lair
To journey's end, where he could be revived.
Why did he come?
I venture serendipity. God guided him, I guess he'd say
And non-believers, just like me will think their thoughts and
smile
and leave him, where the path divides, to worship and to pray.
But wish him well, my friend, He walks the extra mile.
He seeks tomorrow's truth in faith foretelling yesterday.
So journey on, Magoola, with a breaking smile
to grace the passage of this brief delay.
Paul Styles
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