You might sometimes find yourself, for long periods of your earthlife, striving after the wrong things; even worse, striving via the wrong principles and means; unaware of how you got there, sometimes unaware perhaps even of whatever it was you once really wanted, and not knowing how to change back onto the right track.

This is a trick that life plays on every Seeker – to force you to light up the inner Lantern within your consciousness; for the aim of the cocoon is to turn the caterpillar into a butterfly. So too does life make you blind in order to awaken your Insight – and then, nothing can blind you anymore apart from you yourself. Sometimes the wrong path is the right path, as long as you keep on honestly and tirelessly seeking. You will find yourself.

 – Che Chidi Chukwumerije.


One land’s poor man
Is another land’s rich man
It’s all relative
How many meals do you need to be hungry?

One school’s teacher
Is another school’s student
It’s all relative
How much knowledge do you need to be ignorant?

One court’s free man
Is another court’s prisoner
It’s all relative
How many laws do you need to have injustice?

One era’s inventor
Is another era’s copycat
It’s all relative
One religion’s wise man
Is another religion’s fool
It’s all relative
One heart’s sorrow
Is another heart’s happiness
It’s all relative
One man’s woman
Is another woman’s man
It’s all relative
One nation’s outcast
Is another nation’s promised helper.

It all depends
On what you need
Some want the flesh of the fruit
Some crave its inner seed.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.


Drooping, a wing, the corners of a mouth
A face, a heart, a pair of wings again
Drooping –

A second life –
All alone. What does this mean? It means
Nobody has ever grasped.
You see the flower at dusk
Which you saw at dawn
The flower recognises you and opens up to you
But you pass it by
You have gone blind
You have walled yourself in
In that moment in which
You lost your

By and by, you learn again
To see
The same flower of always
Waiting beside your heart,

I leap.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.


I carry with me only a pouch of hope
A flinch of salt for my daily bread
My shadows falter; my wings, they grope
For space, where seekers dread to tread

My sandals are poised to strike the sand
A grain of pain is universe
But when I prise open deep my hand
The lines of blessing write off any curse

In leaps and bounds my mountains guide me
When the moon is barking, my shadows hide me
Pauselessly, hard, intuitions ride me.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.