One special birthday…: A poem 

I have walked and walked around Jericho in circles 

These sonorofic revolutions for the walls to be hurled 

My ink-pickled scrolls dressed in secrets like pearls 

encrusted with the honour of revelations for the world 

These swords are but flowers, this struggle is but music 

Not shy of the horde, not weary from the road, this torch-lick 

that lights my face, leads the way every single passing day 

These unlit candles I wear are wax from paradise’s inlay 

Yes, I walked around Jericho in singularly determined circles 

This rigid, linear axis is six decades, but is still a legacy of curls 

I laugh over unrecompensed toil, but there is still much oil 

My resolute resilience is a whistling kettle always on the boil 

Are the base bastions falling? Has universe’s memory come calling? 

Do the constellations say the towers of false powers are devolving? 

I had much too frugal a breakfast and bed throughout my stay 

But I know I’ll get flowers and stars on one special birthday