I walk through the muddy fields With my barefoot
I am leaving my marks on the surface The grounds absorb the rhythm of my passion
I step with my weight;
I carry each moment with me
Your sprain is mine too
I glimpse a boy in the fields
Running and shouting all over, Startled by the sound of his echo
He doesn’t know the meaning of his name
At sunrise he heads to the grazing fields
At sunset he will salute the grave of his heroes
I don’t know where I fit in right
My country is my birth mark
It’s embedded on my skin, tattoed on my forehead
And flows through my blood pipe
I will sing, die and dance for it
On my wooden bamboo-bed I snore loudly scaring the night away
My eyes are closed, but my ears are open
To the sound of the resistless winds
I am an African dreamer who stares at the opaque sky
Piercing the earth with darkness
By Leely Omole
