THE VERDICT OF SIGHT
by Chisom Okoye
THE VERDICT OF SIGHT I beheld a dry tree, naked of leaves; its branches spoke the language of breaking, yet the hands of the wind struck it violently, revealing a new leaf beneath its silence. The birds dared not risk their lives in perching; the flame awaited it as a companion. But the new leaf spoke contrary to what the eye had seen. Should the saw approach it, or wait to understand the message of the leaf? The body of the tree echoed death, but why did its roots remain firm after the stubborn flood and violent wind? Did the new leaf speak of life? Can death womb life? Every morning, the tree passes judgment on the falsehood of sight. Time exhumes the life buried in the grave of a moment, and the green leaf announces the birth of a stronger branch. What sight condemned as death in the court of life was life. The tree—a nation written off by sight— its roots endured the long assault from distant shores. The stubborn flood pressed against its ancient soil, yet the new leaf, born from chaos, carried the buried manure of life. Its veins still drink from the wound of its roots, drawing from the life buried beneath the soil. From that buried life rises a mighty branch, stretching beyond the wound, overturning the verdict of the eye. What the eye beheld as death was only a threshold; what appeared silent was becoming the language of legends. Beneath the verdict of appearance, another beginning was taking root.
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