Come, Let Us Beat the Ancestral Drum

COME, LETS BEAT THE ANCESTRAL DRUM Sitting here flowing through the meters of time like a smooth spring stream meandering through forest greens, I peruse the many folds of the caverns of this fluid mind of mine; searching for words that would rhyme to tell the stories of illustrious dreams. Life can sometimes be void, emotionless and quite stoic; but such cannot be the condition or position of the darker hued poet. We too, have stories of old to be told too; the eager minded needing to know. So rise you mighty Griots; and weave the tales of our great kings and queens. Let us hail the coming of ages of our beginnings here; landing packed like sardines in a can--- we have still survived; And now here we stand rooted in this land; no longer shrouded by the veil of fear. Body and Soul, we‘re still here; a new day has dawned and we’ve arrived. Come children, beat the ancestral drum: Ba Dom! Ba Dom! Ba Dom! Dom! Dum! Its Jubilee time! Liberation time! Beat the drum: Ba Dom! Dom! Dom! De Dum! Dom Dum! The freedom bell has rung: Ba dom dom dom!