For ousmane Sembene and the Africa he hoped for


My Mother weeps!



mother weeps
tears heated by
hardship years

another son lost
under the sun of her
native land

i sit still and think

a reverie into last night

when the dew was still
gathered on the grasses
and the smiling moon
kept watch over her cousins

when there where still myths
and tales
when the forest dogs laughed
from the sinister darkness

and Ousmane told us a story

a tale of a distant land
a land that was white washed
with waters from western shore

but drew forth from within
the strenght
only known to the black
and conquered
eons of oppression
and at the end stood unfettered

we laughed and smiled


mother still weeps
i know why she cries
she knows not
which of her children
is next

i fear to weep

knowing he is at a place now
where there are
no whites
and no blacks
just people







Poetry by Awenlimobor Sylvester
Read 459 times
Written on 2007-06-12 at 13:34

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