Of The Diaspora

                                                                      ❦➰➰❦
Oh children in your millions
who played in cold black streams
ran in lush green valleys
of a thousand hills
prodded your wire toys
fashioned from disposed steel
along red dusty streets
through puddles on tarmac
between the minibuses.

Now and as before you, again
Another generation walking,
on heavy-hearted departures
dragging your souls
believing yourselves scorned or
forgotten by the receding souls below
your red dust laughing at you
as it became covered by white cirrus puffs
your thoughts a flood of lingering promises
lead weighted, you cling to them for a time
until your red dust turns to grey and black
and your once blue mountain tops,
the green hills and valleys covered in tears

Oh surviving brothers let go of your sibling
Allowed the lingering hopes to sink

Sons and Daughters
your feet are dry
bear the wounds and scars on your soles
your hearts have grown lonely in faraway climes
Yet your lands await you
as red and green and blue
alive as you once knew them
Your departures are but days, not years
You are spores scatterred
far away you’ve found soil for a season,
where you have come to know me.

                                                                      ❦➰➰❦

• ^{30th March 2018, Gapyeong}
  
• ^{Of The Diaspora by African Dissident is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0}

• ^{Silhouette of plane flying at sunset by Pixabay under Pexels CC0 License}