Son
I
want to tell you a story
A
story of the black son
From
a dark womb
Born
in a dark land
Blend
in a dark pot
Who
came back yesterday
Carrying
the light from the world
Son
I
had a son before your breath
His
name was Dr.Luther King Junior
He
was a promising son
A
torch-bearer in this dark family
But
just before he could walk
A
thunder struck him on rainy day
When
we had gathered in a public ground
To
elect a dark leader
All
saw him kick the last
For
it was in an a open field
Waiting
to vote
On
a market day
My
heart was crushed son
Reduced
to a tot’s dot
My
fertility died in a flash
I
wept till night
For
the unfare gods
Had
robbed me him
Robbed
us light
In
the dark land
I
despised all males
Who
promised me a son
After
your brother was struck
Struck
by the gods may be
Just
before the cock crowed
I
remembered what your brother once told me
‘Ma’
bring home my brother from the market’
Before
the horizons were painted scarlet
Same
night
I
woke him up
The
man I shared a bed with
On
my safe days though
Because
I wanted a son
Brother
to Luther
His
name
Barack
O’
The
sun rose faster than the clock’s tick
And
you were conceived
Later
you came out
Lifting
your hand high
A
white hand
From
a dark womb
I
knew you were special
For
I wanted you son
Your
brother wanted you too
How
you were conceived
Was
special son
How
you came out
Was
special too
How
you grew up
Was
special too
How
you got education
Was
special too
Because
you are a dark son
With
a light brain
Son
your recent home coming
Made
my breast firm again
Just
like they were
When
I was fifteen
My
youth was
Rebirthed
Renewed
Just
like an eagle from hibernation
You
have made my black skin
The
World’s Icon
For
My
son was the first son
To
return home
On
the wings of a youthful eagle
From
a white land
You
rode on a white horse
Waving
to the black soil
The
black soil that conceived you son
The
soil that you ate growing up
Son
Ma’is
proud of you
Ma’
is pregnant again
I
hear you have assembled all
All
your uncles and aunts sons and daughters
I
hear you train them
To
be strong like tata madiba
May
his soul rest in peace!
Son
I
hear you call them YALI
I
first thought it was wali
Even
if I know not what it is
I
suppose it is more delicious
Than
the wali I cooked for your father
Long
live my son
The
son of a dark woman
From
a black land
Because
You
have made my womb white
Whiter
than snow son
You
have made me shine
More
than the bright star
I
bless thee son
On
this your Jubelee add four birthday
I
bless the seed of your loins
May
the heavens double and triple your days and seeds
To
see YALI stand tall
Taller
than you son
Here
in my whitened womb
Africa!
4th/08/2015.
No comments:
Post a Comment