Chinua's Fallen Quill

Among lesser men are gods
Aye though few yet remain
Through the glass I cast gaze
across time and age to see yet
how many ever were and are
With their name in the eternal wind
I listen and gander into the solid light
A single loud name flies from a few
Silent and loud in my frail drums
Chinua, chinua, and yea I nod
A thespian god of line and poetry
But Lo I heard in the wind in the night
Chinua's godly gold quill is fallen
His corporeal quill his mortal hand
He has passed over the silver seas
Into the land of my forebears past
Ferried by Charon for no coin
While others pay in silver and gold
Chinua my father lo tho I see him
Sitting at table with Homer and them
Drinking in verse the philosopher's mead
With Ken Saro Wiwa an immortal alike
Aye Chinua'a quill be fallen and yet his hand
But he remains still alive in time
Breathing to bear from the paper scrolls
My son and my son's son will one day hear
And sing a poetic song for praise
About a man once become a god
A mortal rose to sublime immortality
Chinua aye thy quill be fallen
Maybe thy mortal hand still today
But lo I see you alive ethereal speaking
To us and ours, to here and will be
Through time your words remain alive