The Music Of My Soul Poem by Warrith Olawale

The melody of my heart, the music of my soul
Breath the rhythm of whimpers,
The whimpers of my crude blood whose tears wail.
I am as giant, yes i know i am a giant
But the pulsation that keeps me alive is dead
Dead and hopeless like the trees in my forest
Tall with large trunks and branches yet without a fruit
Without a fruit or flower of which i should be proud.
In my most weary bones, blood whirl
As my heart sings to me, songs of sorrow, songs of tears

The melody of my soul, the music of my heart
Walk on the long path of bareness
The Bareness of the cloud, bareness of these trees.
I know i am blind, yes i know
The ray of light directly above my eyes tells me so
I hear footfalls- light and heavy, i know others have gone far
But here i rest in the arms of patience, waiting for a hand to take me through
Through the tempests of storm, flood and rain; through the bitterness of progress
For i know i am the weakest of the gales, yes i am the Africa
That throbs in the heart of this child