Dawn-Song Poem by Abubakar Abdulkadir

I have witnessed the discolouration of the rains
That triggers the treeing of my Africa
I have seen the bittering of brews
Tapped from the proud breasts of her palms
Momi, Let me sit in the breeze by the riverside
Maybe, maybe the sun might nurse my sores

Certainly, Momi
I behold the meek African doves
Caught in the claws of raptors
Guise with goatees and rosaries

I do not know where to graze my muse anymore
I am a poet caught in the web of my soil
I cannot write of our tales twisted to foreign lore
I cannot write of eyes lost to bombs bites
I cannot write of young dreams blossoming in rusts

But Momi, Do tell korede, my brother, the prodigal
That he might strum fine tunes in the wilderness
Trading the songs of sorry Africa
But however successful a sea might seem
It does not shun its provenance.

Tell him i wait in the breeze by the riverside
Rehearsing a dawn-song

Tell him that our grasses shall wear new skins
And the sun shall face this side again
And the elders shall re-find their places
In the evenings sipping from gourds
Of a new morning.