From the glory of it’s ocean to the broken hospital windows, Africa is Beautiful. From the cloudless sky to the amputated leg of a guy who hates to beg but has to eat. Africa is Beautiful. Futbol in the streets, families sitting down together to eat, and a young man singing as he speaks. Africa is beautiful.
The atlantic sits calmly just beyond the shanty towns. Africa. The dust covers bare feet playing amidst the burning trash. Beautiful. Palm trees sway in the breeze. Africa. Crickets beatbox heavy in the evening to accompany the buzz of traffic. So Africa. And radios rumble jubilant sounds slowly waving away the day. Beautiful Africa. A mother in a doorway calls her children inside from where they run and laugh. It’s a soothing tune, a restful moment that fits together like sand. For Africa is beautiful. A grandmother stirs the fufu and listens to her granddaughter’s stories of another day at school. You are Africa’s. There is always time. Beautiful. Fences are falling into crumbling streets. Africa is Beautiful. From open door you can hear faith flow out, gospel congas and the people saying, ‘amen’. Africa. And yes, those busted out, cracked and broken windows of the hospital are caked with dirt and beautiful as a girl sings hallelujah in a high pitched voice as she walks by them. Africa is beautiful.
And just in case this seems as complex and unclear as life- and you perceived some sarcasm or poetic irony. Sorry. Its just true. Africa is beautiful.
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2 comments:
i hear the rhythm as i read it. nice brother
dont ever apologize for what your heart says...i mean i havent learned to do that yet (not apologize) but your heart is beautiful and true and who cares what people might percieve other than that
-bekCaw
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