The Sand Seer by Niyi Osundare

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Let your wandering fingers

Trek in these sands

And open up the vista

To the mystery of time.

You cast no nuts

Fling no cords

Ring no bells

Nor seek yesterlives

At the root of graveyard turf.

Vista atoms of practised

eyes, seen everywhere

Knowing the secret of

Every toe. Truths lie

Undressed and the riddle

of the marrow is cracked

Upon a grain of sooth.

Let the sparkle of these

Sands telescope enigmatic

Time and catch the bird on

Tomorrow’s tree.

which woman makes best wife

which profession makes richest

men, what to do or undo that

I may live till I please?

The future shrinks to eye-shot

As you sit there counting

Lots in grains of sand.