Caribbean Poetry: An African Prover
(Takes a Village to Raise a Child)
copyright 2015 K. Omodele
In my tribe, loyalties deep and overflow like the Nile
My women- fierce lionesses, bare panther paws-
fang and claw for the light, Yaa Asantewas.*
Queens rinse man-children's feet that done danced with jinn
Violets firm facing 'gainst tree-uprootin' winds
Aunt-ies, Cousins, Sisters, Earths, Moons and Soil
I salute my whole tribe that did raise a child.
You know this village done raised a child
who turned away, an' SPLURT a mad dash fi di wild?
But my tribe's fire lighted paths, beaconed and called
Omowale- son returned like the Prodigal.
When my tribe's seeds spring forth, Earth's nurture fruit
A child's name- first thought so that word breathes Truth
The Son Rises- Omodele- sound em-powers youth
This village raised a child; 'ey, Yo Tribe...SALUTE!
* Asantewa~ Asante/Ashanti Queen who fought against the British in the Ashanti Wars.
K. Omodele
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