In Mom Heart Africa Music Is Her Soul Poem by sallam yassin

In Africa there is a language
Everybody is born with
The language of music
With music we live with
And we die with
From the wombs
of mothers
The drum and beat they born with us
And we carry them in heart with us
In our good times
Or In bad
The music play for us
When we pray
When we have a party
Or when beloved
Ones buried
in howl and pain
in glory and fame
in gloom of fall
in laugh or in tear
in war or in peace
in love or in hate
in mosque or in church
in market of town
or working on field
the song is high and with hum
with sweat and tears
with hopes desires
what we deserve
in hearts we bear
the beat
That we breathe
that music we talk

in mom heart - Africa
music is ID of her soul