Poem -
Homeland
I am Africa
And African
As much as you, my friend
The racking sobs that convulse the lands that gave us life
Burn the skin of my heart and mind
Like acid
As much as you, my friend
You may wear a black skin and speak your language
As I wear my white one, and speak my own
But we both know, as only Africans do
That we belong to Her
She carried us, beat us, nurtured us, crushed our hearts
She does this every day
But she will always be our Mother
Her soils are stained red forever
By our blood that she has freed from our veins
And she will never be tamed
Her sunset in flames
Her violent storms
Her mournful birdsong
Her starred night sky
These all belong to me
As much as you, my friend.
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Comments
Hi Cherie, thank you for the kind comment. I appreciate that you could find it within yourself to feel, vicariously, what I was feeling when I wrote this. I understand it is perhaps a less eloquent write, perhaps many would even think it pretentious, but Africa will always be my home, regardless of who lays claim to what. I no longer live there, unfortunately, and not by choice, so this one was a bit of a heartrending piece. Either, way, I am glad you enjoyed it, and I truly value your kind and ever-insightful commentary, Cherie. Stay rad, my friend. :)