that wise place is in you, warrior o, where the prophet talks, and visions are cautiously told. where men are fine as goodness itself and women are strong as baobab. you, one-woman army, carry the heavy when wata done pass gaari. that human place is in you, prophet, where the wind speaks stories of ancestors, untold. where rivers flow in ancient direction and cheek-long tears are sparkles of power. you, poem at peace with itself, lighten the heavy. sebi, u no dey fear even before a pantheon of coarse gods? that valiant place is in you, Sokari, where questions blow hard and dry like harmattan, like why our tainted mirrors are unfair to all the beautiful ones. put simply, i dey hail you.