Our music would never leave us


When the music ruled the airwaves

Air and Ground lost meaning

All became one

This, here, the movement of the body

Meant that we had truly left the harvest at the barn

The chicken could crackle all night

The cows could moo, the cats could purr

The showers of rain would come and go, we would not stop dancing


We would not stop beating our bare feet against the ground

Till our heels came to bleeding,

Till saliva spurt from our mouths in shameful, uncontrollable ways

Till our hearts beat with ecstasy


These were the repeated chords of our music



Repeated tunes of a chord

We would be on on our knees, pleading,

Prostate, heads facing the sky


Madness, Imploration, A longing for former days


The looming conflict with our neighbors over the grazing fields could wait

The wife who left would come back


As the brew passed around, and the heavy men of the tribe, sipped and nodded heads in agreement

As the old women dressed the next dancers

Those of us that were light and in no need for jewelry and embellishments,

Danced with our souls

Like mad creatures from another planet


Our bodies blended together into nothingness


Our essence was in our existence, right there, right then, on the dance floor


The depth of our souls knew no boundaries


Our hearts found solace in unknown, foreign lands


The rising dust settled any wariness


This was the time, the place. There was nowhere else


When the flute man started us on a new tune, we screamed and rolled on the floor.

“This is our sooong.” and we huddled up in bundles, huddled up in a queue


When dawn came, and the drummer packed his wares to go

We would go home with the talk of the dance on our lips

Today had been wonderful. Today had been the best dance of all


Until the next one,

We would sing for rain

We would sing for lovers

We would sing when visitors from far away lands came to our land


We would sing our children to sleep

We would sing the demons away

We would sing to our ancestors, ask them to heal our land, ask them to give us plenty harvest again


By the river and in the fields.


We would sing


After all, this was our music. This was our land.


~Inspired by Fireboy DML #Vibration. #Afro-Life