“Nkosi sikelel’ Africa
maluphakanyisw’ uphondo Iwayo
(God bless Africa
May her glory be lifted high)”

The poet’s tongue is bile in his mouth
and his breath is a town crier

Songs of sorrow rest on silent faces
This long walk ends in a struggle

So Madiba,
these verses resonate your being
and plant us in your song
as we march to Soweto

Ferry on, Rainbow’s son
Hear the flutes from the Black Star Square

as your memory becomes a portrait
that compasses our walk

Remind the ancestors so they grant you peace

Now that you fade as a season,
we will stare at your life
like it is a painting in a gallery

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Sometimes Death Too Lives

And our feet shall plant forlorn in wet soils
as we journey home again
to the welcoming dirge

there shall be a song
from the village we know
after the funeral

traces of footprints will be a compass
to human emotions
of the ambiguities and controversies
that sit many under the feet of others

there shall be a song
that will clip shadow
when it wanders in meaning

capturing the circle of thoughts
that makes man

and there, death shall live with us
when we breathe the future in fresh memory

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(c) Kwabena Agyare Yeboah
Image: George Rex