Biko's Painted Echo

In the old green country The artist painted beauty The river in a flow of orange A blue-grey backdrop The rolling Drakensburg mountain range A mosaic of nine shades With eleven distinct tones Under the cool shade of a willow He painted a future brighter than a rainbow From the Limpopo to the Cape Along a scenic landscape Breathtaking like a master stroke On the symbolic antelope He painted the tip of Africa’s hope On the wall of shame The paint diluted in blame When the days were the colour purple And yellow the courage of the people In the hall of hatred With concentrated effort Political will his paintbrush Time his canvas He painted his timeless masterpiece He revealed a love camouflaged A fine work of art archived in our flesh Through the blue hues we admired In the brown of our eyes we revered We worshiped in the black of our skin And repented in the white of our sin When colour was the enemy within He painted over the pain we’ve seen Colour blind is the grey of our mind Colourless is the soul we hide Colourful is the same red we bleed Coloured is the love we breed He painted with the warm colours of the Indian And the boldness of the Mediterranean He painted the Karoo with his resilient character And painted the Table mountain decor He painted with the screams of his torture The vision in his writings we lecture He painted as he marched through ‘The Dunes of June’ He’s still painting and his masterpiece is not done