I want to go to Africa

To see the face of aids I want to go to Africa

To learn the ancient ways

The quiet lonely voice in me

Speaks in tongues of antiquity In Bantu, Iziche or Xhosa

So soft with eloquence and with power.

I wish to walk the tribal trails

To sit with the sick and aged left behind.

We' d speak of customs old and new

Divine all truths seeking wisdom's cue

Beginning with time when man first got his start

To his coming with chaos disguised as true companion.

That fire which kindles in all mankind

Pregnant with the truth consuming the mind.

And sheds preternatural nature leaving confusion behind.

In the ashes and dust his wake creates.

I want to go to Africa

To speak to the dust of my forefathers

To heal my soul with their songs of life

And free their spirits from miscreants and strife

To paint the red clay on my soul

Which transformed boys to manhood

As the clean clay made them whole.

I wish to kneel close to Mother Earth

To hear her cries of grief and mirth.

To follow the traces of the ancient dances

Sadly gone too soon due to slavery and

Christian eloquence to listen to the beating drums in the distance

Under the harvest moon with pomp and circumstance.

But most of all I long to be connected to my ancient family

My quest to answer all the answers

And question all the questions directed at me.