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I sing and flood your hearts with my race,
I am the ancient music in your soul,
The untold story of an unfailing love,
The sun upon our green fields,
The harvest of tomorrow’s history

I dance to the tunes of our homeland,
Don’t put me down, I bend on my terms!
I am iron yet melting like butter at dusk.
I am Paul, yet in our Solomon’s garden,
I am black, yet the brightest in the cosmos.

Listen hunter to lions roar, writing their story,
I am the daughter of seasoned heritage,
Reaping with love the light of hidden hopes,
Dampen not my spirit, oh man! I am Treasure,
I am she who blossoms on broken fields.

I bleed beautifully with every cycle of time,
It is a gift to our very existence,
My dangling breast sustains you,
On my bronze beating back you slept,
While you rocked happily on our farms,

under the sheets

I am the roaring sun of Africa’s dream,
I am the offspring of delicate wisdom,
Oh earth, I am her by name, Alkebulan!
Let me wear my crown proudly Africa.
As I dance to the tunes of the healing sun.

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I punch in numbers for a living but become alive when I write!

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