In times of love and calm,
This primordial sound pronounced to the clan;
In times of wars and loss,
This primordial sound still translated the fall.
The spirit of the animal, wood carver and tree;
The bearer of the rhythm that dominates our genes;
The communication god; short distances or not…
Djembe at work; the audacity was raw!
“A good drummer listens as much as he plays”
“Ayan” always ignited our darkness with his grace;
To African slaves on their middle passage days,
Its striking conveyed courage and hope for a change.
Drumsticks and drum-beats brought melodies;
Reconnection, recollection of memories;
Celebration, preservation of heritage;
Transmission, transition to the spirit age.
The foundation of sounds and harmony
Is now an artefact in the White Man’s gallery;
Slowly losing its purpose and royalty,
Who will restore it to nobility?
This poem was published in the 11th Issue of PoeticAfrica magazine.
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More Poems:
Hazina Ya Nina Sifia – Kimani Halima (Kenya)
Soliloque – Mayssa Boulmaali (Algérie)
Hearty thanks Writersspace Africa for publishing my work 🙏
You are welcome.