Sing on: Somewhere, at some new moon,
We’ll learn that sleeping is not death,
Hearing the whole earth change its tune.
— W. B. Yeats
I sing of the beauty of Athens without slaves of a world free of kings and queen and other remnants of an arbitrary past Of earth with no sharp north or deep south without blind curtains or iron walls of the end of warlords and armories and prisons of hate and fear Of deserts-treeing and fruiting after the quickening rains Of the sun radiating ignorance and starts informing nights of unknowing I sing of a world reshaped — Niyi Osundare