Poetry #9: Obroni!

Obroni!

Nyame Nwu na Mawu
God will die
before I do.
I will not fear
this devouring land;
We must learn to spare each other.
For it is here,
That the young must learn
to drink wisely
and breathe slowly.
The Red finds its way
in everything.
Breathe too quickly,
And it settles the mind as well.
It is here,
That I am the child
among children.
Obi nnim a, obi kyerɛ
They promise to teach me
to think less,
And know more.
I will see the rain fall
slower than before.
I am Nsoromma,
An ivory star in a sea of Red-stained black.
My hands are too weak
for the machete:
So I learn to cut
with my eyes instead.
Gye Nyame
“Except for God,”
The preachin’ man cries,
And we dance to a tearful
sermon -
How powerful the weeping,
Watering man can be
in this land of parched dust!

Photos were taken in Okurase, Ghana, by a Sony Alpha5000. VSCO was used for editing.