Poem: “The Call of the River Nun” by Gabriel Okara

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The Call of the River Nun

I hear your call!
I hear it far away; 
I hear it break the circle 
of these crouching hills.

I want to view your face
again and feel your cold 
embrace; or at your brim 
to set myself and 
inhale your breath; or 
like the trees, to watch 
my mirrored self unfold 
and span my days with 
song from the lips of dawn.

I hear your lapping call! 
I hear it coming through; 
invoking the ghost of a child 
listening, where river birds hail 
your silver-surfaced flow.

My river's calling too! 
Its ceaseless flow impels
my found'ring canoe down 
its inevitable course. 
And each dying year 
brings near the sea-bird call, 
the final call that 
stills the crested waves 
and breaks in two the curtain 
of silence of my upturned canoe.

O incomprehensible God! 
Shall my pilot 
be my inborn stars to that 
final call to There 
O my river's complex course?

— Gabriel Okara 

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