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About This Poem
we call out the drums to celebrate
my full hunter-starred father
with your priesthood
seated upon this deep-set
chambers of the niger
we doff our feathered caps
for the ecstasies of your drums -
oh, where did mother's raw zeal for
the sun-burnt dances come from?
we salute the legions of wild-life
taken home alive by the naked hands
for the voice of lions roared
from your inner-most courts
while we were called babes –
we still remember the ape-skins
that told of the valour of the chief huntress
the mother of the amazons
your history-sung daughters of your stead -
for the raw gold-crown upon your head
father of the amazons
we call out the drums to celebrate!
for you who stood spear-to-spear
with half-human and half-spirit kings
we call out the drums to celebrate!
for you who decked your off-springs
with diamonds and starry crowns
we call out the drums to celebrate!
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