Those Days (Poem)

Could it be the sound of the wind hissing through the leaves
Or could it be …wait a minute
It must be the inner thoughts of my mind
battling with shields and spears hitting in the distance
like the chants of the bongo drums
the drums that awaken spiritual consciousness
hit by the rough hands that built the mud huts in which we dwell
the scratched hands that sculpted the canoes that float us to our own wonderland
the spiritual sound of the drum bellows in the mighty heavens
remembering the times when unity, peace and love were one
giving me the freedom…freedom
giving me the freedom…freedom

The drums free me from the illusions that cloud our daily lives
they journey me back in time when reality was real
when a mother could hug a baby and sing her a lullaby
now the manufactured mass produced plastic mothers
don’t even know how to hold their babies
back in time when a father could pick an axe to collect dry logs
that would keep the family warn in the biting cold
gathered in love around the warm orange flames
telling stories of wisdom
giving me the freedom…freedom
giving me the freedom…freedom

Kingdom of the sound of the drums hitting in the distance
echoing rhythms of joy and happiness
feet stomping on the ground in synchrony
celebrating the germination of another baby into the kingdom
the times when rains would nourish the lands
and crop fields will blossom with abundant food for everyone
the music of the drums resonate with peace and happiness
They remind me of the days when respect was the order of the day
When a child would greet every elderly person they see in the streets
Good morning my son, good morning my daughter, God bless you
now the little mongrels will tell you are not my relative
Humanity is related
it’s not blood that you ask for when you are thirsty
give me the freedom…
To be continued

 © Dredd X