Scorpions in the Sand.
Often, wondered I,
of the nature of secrets wild
The truth, if it be a shore,
is plenty-full of soft golden sand.
Hence, the secret shame
is a black inconspicuous scorpion
buried just as deep
as a foot length.
What discomfort it brings,
to imprint one's sole and soul
in a world of ease
only to discover shattered peace.
Time waits patiently at the market,
hustle, bustle, wrestle around her
She may never reveal
Her greatest tussle:
The black-hole in a galaxy of stars,
such an esoterica of deception
Truth so carefully guarded
Fire in an ocean
Ants in our tea
Darkness in light
Enemies amongst friends
All those secrets 'rightfully' kept
shall one day come alive
to some heinous degree
Time does not reveal a secret
A secret reveals itself to be so,
in all,
finally reveals a hidden clause
One may yet forever escape the poisonous painful sting
of the armed arachnid
It lies forever in wait,
as a chance to hurt
not one but many
Only those who know where it dwells
may steer those concerned
away from Scorpi's dwelling
Secrets do not stay stationary,
as they move slowly,
still they move
because they sting to live and live to sting
The only means of escape
may be a rubber sole about the soul
Cynicism to the sands of truth
Another option be to remove
the scorpion that terrorizes truth
Oblivious forever, the foot may be,
if one powerful enough
be it the systems of this world
or a parent
manages to divert one's attention
far far away from that side of the beach
far far away from the beach at all
So much effort,
perhaps evil,
at times good,
is required to tame secrets wild
At least this should be how one reasons
if they were to be
the secretkeeper
wading in the sand
concerned for nothing
but for Scorpi’s life.
©2020 by Ayo Okikiolu.
Context:
I wrote this during the covid-19 pandemic in 2020. I thought about all the secrets people hide, how everything seems peaceful one moment and then a prick, a secret exposed, and then everyone suddenly feels pain.
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