Mother Africa
The continent is called Africa.
Mother Africa’s reign is the past.
Her promise, the future.
Africa’s will has always been strong.
Its pulchritude the rich soil, a song of all colors.
The reticulation of struggles are a lifetime
forced to be flexible as branches on a willow tree.
Africa’s battles are endless, still…
Her eyes have shed tears across salty oceans.
Mother Africa ensconced in times past…with mighty Kings and Queens
became drenched in the blood of hate, famine and disease.
A broken oasis; its rare animals almost extinct.
The acacia trees a reminder of life
its branches are all tribes extending into tomorrow
desperately clinging to the old ways, rituals, rhythms.
Dancers calling on ancestors, drums filling the air.
Her heart amazingly bottomless with hope.
Suffering the pain having carried the distant cries of her children.
Mother Africa’s gift is unconditional love.
Her metanoia continence refuses to give up
lighting the night sky with brilliant stars, a pathway leading home.
Karen Mariano Bryson
©2019
Karen Mariano Bryson is a Virginia-based published poet whose works has been featured in several volumes, most recently in Twilight Musings. She is the recipient of three “Outstanding Achievement In Poetry” silver bowls and is also featured in The Sound Of Poetry 3-CD compilation.
