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About White Heat
This poem is about the halcyon spiritual era of our lives. We were a group of young Christian students on campus years ago. 'The Mountaineers' , I dubbed us. We changed the course of destinies and introduced key players in the history of the body of Christ in that region through prayer.
Born and Forged In White Heat
White Heat was the place I was forged
Where the beautiful hills of Nsukka
Nestled the university in moulded, tall, green fingers.
At night in the harmattan,
The famous cold, dry winds chilled
Villagers, lions and lionesses
But from White Heat,
A fire poured out
Sweeping through the souls of academia
Engulfing the west and east
Razing edifices of pride and worldliness in its path.
We were passionate about it all,
The life of the Spirit
And the Word, the Word, the Word.
Away from sleep’s comfort,
Every Friday night
We made eager pilgrimage through cold, silent, echoing roads
Then the orchestra would begin
As if on signal
The prayers rolled from the stadium, across the valley
And stirred up power and glory
We had something so special, so precious in that physical time
Love stood tall as walls of might about us
Countless numbers of the new specie were born.
We radiated a beautiful light
That attracted all
For the barriers had long been carried to spiritual landfills
And the miracles
Were beyond human belief
We lived in two worlds at a time
Stretching out our hands like the apostles
We saw signs and wonders happen
Tepid is where I lived later.
Where the fires of adventure have been sprinkled
With cooling, clear, predictable waters of religious ritual
I had to return to the forge of my nativity
And live afterwards.
Thanks to lrargerich on Flickr for the Photo of Making a Fire.
The use of this photograph here is not representative of the photographer's views.