The Poem
In the beggining
The water was everywhere
A vapor moist with meaning
Substancing atom and seed
With love urged upon need
Until sound appeared in picture
And time tasted its first rapture
The tongue singing
The wing dilating
Thought upon thought
Mind and memory in vision wrought
The word had ancestry here.
And I griot, poet, sage
Its sacred keeper without a wage
Am the river in which the rage
Of words make war in love upon the page.
Copyright © L'Nass Shango | Year Posted 2009
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