Africa
Home sweet home, Africa my mother's land
Where mornings arise with beautiful sounds of joyful birds
Giving thanks to the one who gave them life.
A peaceful yet chaotic place where souls find comfort in discomfort
Cherished by the smoke of love and wisdom
To keep hopeless hopes hoping for better days.
A land of my origin in which my life principles are rooted
And constantly nursed by my forefathers and mothers
To keep me wet in a well of norms and traditions.
This is home sweet home Africa my mother's land
Where breakfasts and dinners are blessed with arts& culture
In memory of days when forests used to produce food to eat
And herbs to cure illnesses.
Gone are the dàys , gone are the times
But Africa my home remains firm like a tree in desert
Watered by the streams of tears and blood
With sorrows lamenting in pains.
Yes, I still call it a sweet-peaceful home
Though famines and draughts
Continues to crush it with civil wars & political instability
As the world watches in silence for this is Africa;
Africa my home where hopes will never be lost
No matter the blood lost.
In pains and laments we will forever smile
For we know that a home we have
A home that stood heavy rains and horrible storms
For many years and will continue doing so
In decades and centuries to come.
Copyright © Isaac T Matlala | Year Posted 2016
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