Infinite Faith

- I -
Thank God!  Quod erat demonstratum! 

What god do you speak of? 
Shouldn't you be focused on our victory? 
We've finished the problem! 
Yup, we did it. Leave fiction out of it. 
Wait. God's fiction to you? 
I don't believe in ancient fairytales, 
So, god is just some made up fable. 
My five senses haven't sensed
And I personally haven't experimented!

- II -
Ok. Let's think about it

Do you see this tripped up 8 here? 
Yeah, infinity. What about it? 
What number then is infinity? 
Come on silly! It's not really a number
But have your senses sensed it? 
Well science shows that it's true! 
Like when science showed the Earth 
Was like a pancake with dangerous edges? 
Well that was still you "God people"! 
Well Thales for one, and more
Held this with proof, and debates
Flourished. Earth indeed's spherical 
Just like we know infinity today.
To how many digits? 

- III -
And have you tasted your belief? 
What do you mean? 
The belief that you're correct, 
The axiom that absence of proof
Yields proof of the absence? 
No the onus of proof is on you!
So do you think any number
Stands taller than infinity ever? 
Of course not! That's the limit
Nothing ever gets there, but slowly
The numbers ride higher and higher
And that's where the end would be. 
So is it or is it not one of them? 
Is it real, imaginary or other? 
Silly you. Of course not! 
But it is the limit of big numbers? 
Yes. Infinity represents going 
Higher but never ever stopping. 

- IV -
Then infinity is a god. 
What? You had to go there! 
Well it is a god right? 
Something nobody's seen
Nobody knows quite for sure
How big or how small, 
But just that it exists
Beyond our comprehension
We can calculate it 
We can...
To how many decimal places? 
Can we experience it? 
Or can we find experiences
That point to it? 
Now you're talking in circles
To pull superstition out of the hat. 
Well you believe in infinity
Which you've never seen
Outside a Maths book or class
So there are many infinities
Pervading the fabric of the 
Universe, and the supreme of 
All those infinities, is God. 

Nonsense! Nonsense...
I don't believe in ancient fairytales, 
So, god is just some made up fable. 
My five senses haven't sensed
And I personally haven't experimented!
Yet you believe modern human tales, 
Where god is a fable, but infinity is real
Though no sense has come close
To making you personally experience it. 

(c) nyonglema

Special moments

We miss them when bliss seems too elusive, 
When ailments of a foot, or of an eye
Clamor and demand your attention exclusive.
What did you overlook? 

One foot aching means the other foot, 
And the rest of the body are well. 
Isn't pain a signal that something is afoot
Only in part of the whole?

So as the lion gores the deer, and the snake
Cracks the bones of that tender cub, 
Or you notice the quivers and deadly shake
As the earth opens to engulf,

What are you likely to overlook? 
Oxygen flowing, the sun shining, humans surviving 
Horrible catastrophe? 
The rescue crew, first responders, lion cubs tenderly
Fed by their loving mother, 
A snake living another day, 
Dead matter feeding the humble beetle? 

For no evil can exist without prior good. 
As there's no darkness without prior light
There's no pain without prior serenity
There's no war without prior peace
There's no hate without prior love
There's no death without prior life
There's no end without a prior start. 
What did you overlook 
As you inertly focus on the call to take action,
While cursing the rest of you still active? 

(c) nyonglema

Clean fire place

The fire just went out in the hearth, 
As the pot, cold stares out the hut door. 
The wood burnt, yet nothing anymore 
Can tell the story of the flames it bore. 

Clean out the dust, clean it out! 
Our God is an awesome God who loves to see
Cleanliness in everything! Clean quickly
For Him to see how clean our feat

Even the darkened soot mud walls
Seem to cower and hide, lest one notices
That they witnessed the fire, that pieces
Of history reside in their crevices 

As webs dangle from the bamboo overhead, 
Darkened by that fire, slowly swaying 
In the windless silence of the day greying. 
The cold pot silently stares out the door. 

What pain put out the fire in the hearth? 
What self-glorification deceives in aspect, 
Forcing cleanliness, not as one would expect
By seeing the ashes, picturing insects
Dancing in the flames that made them 
Smoke rising, lighting the walls, 
A cacophony of color, noise, mayhem
Under the metal pot enthralled. 

What pain put out the fire in the heart? 
To deny the fire once there, to deny ashes, 
A mark of humus in the  very code of DNA, 
A hot pot changing the fruits of the day, 
Seeing God not in our earthly feats 
But directing our feet along His own way? 

What pain hides the fire from the heart? 
Lift the wood and live again, light a new flame
Light a new flame, and touch the ash. 

(c) nyonglema

No god ?

The multiverse expands beyond human imagination, 
The monoverse as well, spreading in every direction. 
Are we alone? Was mars ours before? 
The questions stomp on Einstein's ant brain
Yet others gnaw at its toe nails, as if
To mock at greatness, as if they could win all. 

Yes, others study humbly and can tell what destruction 
80kg of weird humongous monstrosity can action 
In their ant-ly lives. Those gnawing think 80kg, 50, 
20kg are all the same. 
Is lack of knowledge about something, proof 
That all answers are equally possibly true? 

Is black dark grey and white a lighter black? 
Is killing 10 people same as 5 million lives, 
Or is starving an infant in a death camp
The same as denying a meal to a migrant? 
Is failing to save the planet, the same as 
Failing to save your neighbor's house from flames? 

Does the decapitation by one justify the inquisition? 
Or does the inquisitor's evil justify decapitation? 
Does the guillotine prove fickle humanity, 
Or does it show the eternity of revolution? 
Are all theories of our existence valid, 
In spite of the contradictions beaming from them? 

In our quest for the mind of God, as said Albert, 
Can every theory explain our reality accurately? 
Is the addition of 2 and 2 same as 2²? 
Are we claiming no god based on our understanding, 
Or our lack of understanding of our surroundings? 
Are we ants that gnaw, or ones that seek to grow? 

(c) nyonglema

Expertise

Which book has been the most burnt, 
The most insulted, the most analyzed, 
Challenged, denigrated, hated? 

Experts in the comment section 
Light up the fireworks of opinion. 
Greek and Hebrew and Aramaic 
Hold no secret to them. 

The History of the People whose
Words fill its pages is as 
Elementary as ABC to them; they 
Can re-enact it from their homes. 

Armed with the sword of language, 
History, culture, Geography, 
Philosophy and science of the day, 
They hack away, they hack away! 

Contradictions? hack hack hack. 
Falsehoods? hack hack hack. 
Human inventions? hack hack hack. 
Their keyboards sharper than steel!

They've read all 73 books, stroke 
For stroke, and can parallel texts,
One section to other, to see how each author
Made up the story to suit their narrative. 

Or they have not? But 1 video is sufficient, 
They're now experts of everything! 
The Book is false, the tradition as well. 
Their feelings and opinion are the Truth. 

Encouraged by others like them who 
In pride turned Its words into rascals, 
Bending them to do their will over the Will
They type away, playing "God". 

(c) nyonglema



In the desert

I hear voices telling me I'm not enough.
My inadequacies gang up for an intervention, 
And I'm the center of their morbid attention:
"You are and will be found wanting."

Camel skin marked the way way back. 
The desert stirred as "Repent" echoed along 
The lonely shores of the River Jordan, and throng
Upon throng came to listen. I'm not there. 

A straight, flattened way for the Lord
Was the requirement for any form of joy. 
Yet all I bring are curves, hills and voids, 
And inability to do better or more. 

"Before birth, before you were formed..."
I've read that, but should I believe it? 
Definitely it was meant for some great prophet, 
Not me, seed on rocky soil wilting away

How shall the Lord travel these traps 
That my hungry angry soul sets in despair? 
How shall he navigate a heart so in disrepair
Even spiders won't build webs there? 

"Don't be afraid, for I am with you...."
Whispers floating to my cowering ears
To persuade me to cast away the fears
That gang up to jail-bar my attention. 

With four candles burning on the wreath, 
And my healing heart still thinking about my fate 
While making the straight to welcome the babe
I move to not be afraid for He is with me

It's a child's craft on the potter's wheel, 
The trembling fingers on the archer's bow, 
A wrench eating at a loose nut, but I sure know
That I'm not alone in fixing that manger 
Which for the Architect is Heaven's harbinger

(c) nyonglema


Luck

The electrons rush down their path, 
Reacting to my finger pressure on buttons. 
It's all by chance. 

I hit the gas pedal and lurching 
Forward, the trees rush past the moving wind. 
It's all by chance. 

Infra-red waves open the portal 
To news, the world and its fun on my TV screen, 
It's all by chance. 

The blender spins to chop, 
Perfectly sharpened and balanced to act, 
It's all by chance. 

Oh... you don't think so? 
You think we should credit some human
For this genius and the art? 

Yet...

The Earth floats between death and sun, 
In a solar system set just right in the milky way, 
But it's all by chance. 

Celestial bodies pummel everything, 
Sparing Earth despite their random deadly craze
But it's all by chance. 

Solar flares cast deadly rays, 
But the ozone is just there so you tan just right, 
But it's all by chance. 

Our brains can think about thinking 
About another person thinking about thinking, 
But it's all by chance. 

Yes, 

You want me to believe that in history, 
One day a cat gave birth to a beast not a cat
And another cat gave birth to that same species
And they met, and happily started a new line of 
Not cats... just by chance. 

Like at some point a unicell 
Moved out to become multicellular
And made you, randomly, by picking the luck 
From the safe possible DNA/RNA recombinations: 
1 to quadrillion cells in less than a trillion years, 
Just by chance. 

That out of millions of possibilities, 
You made it to the egg, just by chance. 
That you're just a fluke
The result of mere luck
A glitch in the machine. 

(c) nyonglema


Peace in the Wind #Zaumu #Sampson

Requiem aeternam tibi, my dear brother, my dear friend. 
You sought peace on Earth, may you find peace in heaven. 
RIP Sampson Lemongoe Zaumu till we meet again. 



The golden glitter of floating clouds lift up the wings
On the plane that carves out the way home.
You stand and out your beard
Breaks the smiles of years cheered
By you and me thinking, saying, and doing the little things.

On the plane that carves out the way home,
I watch you go again: you never learnt to stop
Until every task was done,
And joy was everyone,
And hearts spoke songs to each other in peaceful tomes.

I watch you go again: you never learnt to stop!
Nature set you back, the roads with vile treacherous trap
Tried to take the clock
But you never take a knock,
You never say enough, you give and give, but never give up.

Nature set you back, the roads with vile treacherous trap
Changed our smiles for fears, our cheers are tears,
But you wiped them away
Telling us to be okay,
While hoisting these little kids upon your fatherly lap.

Changed are smiles for fears! Our cheers are tears
Swelling inside and up our aching heart to our faces,
Pouring out to be with you
Seeking the tender “mchew”
That says “It’s ok”, “It will be ok”, “Uh lahte”, “Why the fears?”

Swelling inside and up our aching heart to our faces
The dreadful whispers to Job seek our parched lips
Wishing to curse the world
In chaos and pain to all unfurled
But the memory of that bearded smile halts those paces.

The dreadful whispers to Job seek our parched lips,
Like daggers to our hearts, but Mary took more than all,
So calling on our Lord,
As we watch you gently soar,
May the golden glitter of floating clouds lift up the wings
Of the angels taking you to her advocate arms, calling
You to join the choir singing Hosanna to the King of Kings. 

(c) nyonglema

Be #JenEus

Roses catch rays of sunlight in their red gaze, 
While a butterfly flutters by. Forget the butterfly. 
A blue jay descends on a ray, its wings ablaze,
Throwing shimmering rays the way of the rose, 
And they play sun ray tennis, 

Bluebells, and sunflowers too are in that place, 
As the blue jay sings its song you'd hate to hear
On a cold morning as dawn gently tickles your face,
Half dreaming, half feeling your lover's arm
Not too heavy, just cozy right,

Singing lyrics that lull you out of sleep to haste
The day away with chores, leaving the heartbeat
Behind, and longing to return as the sun kisses the waves. 
I'm watching sun ray tennis between the blue jay
And the rose, thinking about Love. 

You know, the Love that made the world and the days, 
Chose a people, and a cross, and who just Is. 
Yes. He said it Himself as Moses captured the phrase: 
"I am who is". He doesn't last, He just is, 
Like eyes locked in romantic embrace. 

Watching the blue jay, butterfly, rose and sun rays, 
Dancing their love around the halo they create, 
Bathed in the majesty of nature's ultimate masterpiece, 
I wish that all our love, all your love doesn't last, 
But rather, may this love always be. 

(C) nyonglema

Shiny shiny

A voice calls out in the wilderness, preparing
The way for Salvation. 
The plan is laid out: the plasma'll start circling
Around His feet, as the notes melodramatically 
Change, raising a cloud of multicouloured dust. 
The rock LED-struck would lift up in those clouds
And the clouds of fairy dust would produce bread. 
The crowds will watch in awe, hearts will turn. 

Then standing haloed on the edge of a cliff
He would increase peril by facing the crowd
To meet the Pisa, but only falling to the rocks
Below. 
But the drum of the beat will change 'fore his feet
Hit ground, as a flash of the S-chested angels
Whisk him up, leaving levitation to draw out 
Cheers, kowtows, conversions, repentance. 

Then foreseeing the weakness of the cross, 
Bleeding, helpless, He would kneel. 
Three years of wasted ministry prevented 
By the brave act of trading this simple act
For the salvation of all the kingdoms of the Earth, 
('Cause, you know, he who never lies said so.) 
Having been assigned leadership to the King of 
Heaven and now Earth, all souls would cheer 
"Hail to the King, Hail to the King"
And Mission Accomplished, the Son would return. 

A voice plans this all in the wilderness, 
But it isn't the Baptist. 
It's the bearer of all that's shiny, 
Bearing light as a beacon to trap fickle hearts. 

See how our Saviour chose the scenic route: 
Not the glamour of human expression of worship, 
       He obscured the message with long boring
       Parables, that contradicted the common-
       Sense of the day, and mocked academia,
Nor the Hollywood-like production of miraculous
Miracles, spiced with convenient back stories; 
       He healed, resurrected but asked to 
       Keep such under lock and key until 
       The Cross had been revealed that 
       The focus be kept always on Love
Nor comfortable choices to make the journey
Of pain less painful than it needs to be. 
        He taught climbing out of one's skin
        To remind us that human strength doesn't 
        Get good mileage, but a shared yoke
        Kills usurper guilt forever, 
       
He chose a cross, a quiet wooden cross, 
That we never forget the Sacrifice:
For us, 
But about the Father, and to the Father. 

(c) nyonglema