David+peom+5


 * home pageHistory of My People **

My eyes touch, my finger trace The groit chants, clicks, songs of the Ancestors The warrior words stretched taut across the soul Drum words whispering the name of God They say that beyond the blood-tide cries there is triumph They say that beyond the blues-moan there is continuance Triumph and continuance A reaching back and forward surbe A place where Black and dreams swell consciousness Evan as the Niger swells old seasons into new life

back to home page