Celebrate

By

George O. Obikoya

The band is ready to celebrate the dead

In a ritual of life that defies death itself

And shears the rhythm inherent in life

Of lurid pain to rejoice in life over death

An island of celestial bliss in ribald ruins

It seems for an epic occasion to start and

Lift the souls departed in rapturous grace

Saltated by tellurian songs of bygone days

Dirt sprouts in countless ways everyday

For weeks now in readiness for a big day

To celebrate the glory of life beyond theirs

In empyrean aplomb for everyone to crave

The mothers have no more woes to spare

So much pain wears down even noble souls

But everyone must it sure seems partake in

Praying to the dead for abundance again

They travel from far and wide over the hills

On the other side of life that bears relief of

The strife they endure that death secures

To ease their pain as unto them they pray

The music so soothes their itinerant souls

Lures them to where they really must reside

With their folks so far away in lands beyond

The hills where they hide in crevices of rocks

It does not seem to matter how far away they

And their folks seek recompense for lost time

Working day and night to keep death at bay

The drifting draft sucks in wandering souls

They linger all over but for sure not in vain as

Hope cries on rouged cheeks in kaftan shroud

As it musters all others in the league to help

Find home for them in the hearts of their love

So already there but not in drunken revelry

Bacchanal trails their earthling folks revere

To inspire those whose love they forever will

Cherish and be near to whom from whence

Everyone must be ready for the souls to come

Celebrate with mortals in frenzied grace of dirt

In tongues that lash out at death to keep it far

From their doors where innocent children play

So for a people that otherwise venerate mass

Every Sunday and pray numerous times a day

To curse death and swear at another unfazed

Just so the dead fête with them sure must pain

They clean the yards and trim the brushes sane

The brooks relieved revel in their pristine grace

So the souls come to cleanse their poorly folks

With mystic pebbles that adorn so tender stream

Narrow lanes that wind through endless quays

On the strip humans toil in perpetuity for life

Where land and sea concur for it to flourish

Even if dwarfed by fantasms on orphic hills

The nascence of a ritual of yore excites minds

Adrift on ethereal fleets far from nested graves

And with music and dance and hysteric grace

Hope fends off death for many years to come

In droves they arrive at the crimson-flushed spire

Atop a minuscule temple maidens bore in turns

To relive a celestial communion with their roots

And banish death from scions of seraphic lore

It must marvel naive eyes to see spirits alive

Tender glances visit sweet faces robed in red

As they motion in sync to the songs of praise

They sing to honor death for being so far away

The drums roar to wake the dead to gaze down

To assuage fears of pain on a terrestrial plane

And celebrate life with kindred souls still locked

In life so very sublime seen from sundry planes

Yet, may be not so in those who live it day by day

Why frenzied feet drummed against the fecund soil

And fifes herald to the dead to come and jubilate

Not perch leeched on a spire to drain the maids

For all it is the dead that rules for life to prevail

At least on a day atavistic lineages live again

As all respond to a primal cry for life to triumph

And death to leave the living alone in peace

From one end of the strip to the next they chant

And sing, dance and pray in tongues now clean

In purity they must be in eternal contact now

With the dead who mix with them to celebrate

They dance all day until time to ditch the spire

And the temple of death on which so it thrives

To snatch their folks away at will they now pray

The dead helps to ward death away for good

But they know that death is never far away

And just lays in wait to strike again and to

Snatch life with deadly claws that reach its

Prey from the cryptic recess where it dwells

For now though it’s time to celebrate life

In another year they will count their gains

Of one previous ritual they played their part

In invoking the dead to keep death at bay

As with life everywhere else, and in us all

We celebrate within and in league with all

Our trips to the final resting abode of ones

Dear to us our pleas to the dead our way

They must hear us in our quiet repose as

In communion with love the dead arise

To unite with the living souls in serenity

In a festivity of life to bar death and pain

So let us lionize the dead for life to reign

As in death truth indeed at times prevail

And unite in harmony life in perfect grace

That death must seem not one to faze

As we transit from one plane to the next

In communion with the dead we crave

Dirt we pelt death turns angelic praise

And we banish death as just a craze

So, sing and play; dance all you want

Celebrate life and the dead your way

Live life in joy and peace, every day

Not in the shadow of death ever again