Africa, You Blew Me Away

The dark continent; a place of extremes where the sun rises early and surprises me with its intensity. In between can be found the stuff of life at every level, whilst beneath my feet the red soil heaves with life as the insect microcosm dashes about its business, before the white heat commands them into the shadows. All around, the vegetation stands tall and proud, as if trying to be the first to touch the sun and birdsong fills the heavy air perfumed by the breath of exotic spices. How can this be the dark continent when every sight that blesses my eyes is brighter, bolder, painted with brushes not of my earth? yes, the skins are intensely black, blue-black But when the smile which adorns every beautiful face grins – and bursts open to reveal two perfect rows of pearls the infection is passed to the viewer who now sees only brilliant light as the soul is finally revealed. These people, wearied by poverty and bowed by blind politics nonetheless walk tall and proud as if trying to be the first to touch the sun standing head and shoulders above our stiff-necked dissatisfactory lives. If Africa is the dark continent then I am suddenly in love with blackness and I fear for the dimming light which bathes my homeland.