የክርስቶስ መዐዛ The Aroma of Christ

By Solomon Belete Haile (A sequel to ‘My Flower’) A wrong perception of the world, Arising from an upended mind, Produced an elegy derided; A clay spoke up to the potter, Deducing from the actions of its master,  Sound off a lengthy lecture, Screeds polemic insincere;  The molded slandered the molder, Unbeknownst to its fare, Harangued balderdash of despair; A worm confronts a farmer, Insisting for an answer, what a fool it was to utter, Hasty words of despair, laying blame on the Gardner, Said: ‘what have you done to my flower?’ ‘Leave her alone, come on gardener,’ I am the clay, the miserable worm, A doleful creature in a conundrum; Has the potter no right over the clay, To do what he pleases nay my cry?  Who am I to utter those words, Seemingly true but nescience, Against the author of life and death, Who am I to exclaim, A nonsensical voice in humdrum;  As if all along that flower was mine, Misplacing ownership which was thine; Thank God for my second thought, I goggled at the appa