Through the eyes of a stranger, she is misfortunes whore - the wars that drill her flesh for blood and ferment it in avarices gourd; the sickness, the poverty that divorces life from hope, and the repression of our own in the politics of survival for the cruelest. To me, she is a place in my blood, a shelter to my skin and a ballad in my soul. She is a place where i have celebrated and mourned, achieved and lost, learned and forgotten. She is a teacher that no misfortune is greater than will, that no infliction is too strong to be forgiven and that no sinner, no sin against me is valuable enough to rob the joy of my heart, the peace of my mind and the loss of my gifted ability to forgive. She is a beauty and a mother, a phoenix. Through my eyes, she is Africa, the very rhythm of my heartbeat. youtube/watch?v=yhk52GlkhVA
Posted on: Wed, 05 Mar 2014 09:56:43 +0000
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