Poem: African

I am an African

Even though my mother’s womb did not birth me in this land

I am a black Negro

The same colour as their mathematicians and Pharaohs

My mind was formed from Africa by ancestral fingers

Even though I have lost their tongue, their eternal words linger

I weep with the Ethopian mothers

I pray with the Uganadan Elders

I laugh with the Ghanian children

I hope with the Zimbabwian heart

I am an African

Even though my eyes have not seen my homeland

God has not left this continent, the heart beat of civilization

He listens to His children’s prayers and brings jubilation

Africa is not just a place but home I would call

Where I rest my identity amongst the sand dunes and waterfalls

The African skies are blue like mine

It rolls, sings and claps like mine

It hides and reveals the sun like mine

It teaches the Creator’s splendor like mine

I am an African

Even though my ears have not heard the stories of my great grandma

I am a map of this great land, compassed with a mission

My path has been predestined through a slave’s pray and  vision

I might be poor in earthly riches but wealthy in ambition

I might be ignorant but I’ve learned from Mama Africa’s ancient wisdom

Africa has pride for life but knows how to be on fire for Yah

Africa has beauty in plenty but they humbly worship the Almighty

Africa has scars among the most but they accept peace from the Spirit

I am an African

Even though my mother’s womb did not birth me in this land

I am an African

Even though my eyes have not seen my homeland

I am an African

Even though my ears have not heard the stories of my great grandma

We are all Africans

Nkosi Sikeleli Africa (kos-see Say-Kay-le-ly Africa)

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