Dance of a god

Life is beating the Ayara-Ekomo drum
and I am dancing like the priestess of the river
possessed by the mermaid spirit of Anansa
even the sun rises to applaud my passion
Fate has cooked for me- the black soup
I lick it with the zest of a starved child
I run from the statues of my negritude
that sing to me the songs of the spirits
and expect me to dance the dance of the dead
I run as far as I can under those hunting eyes
of the night, through the thicket of the gathering
spirits of the forest. I can fall to the ground
like a Yoruba manto salute the full moon
that illuminates my escape path
From time to time,
the daunting drum-beats of life blend with
the crying drums and wailing flutes of my native land
and the music of a sun-heated people fill my ears-
And like a funeral-dance in a wake-keeping
I am demanded to tap to the depressing melody
But I dance the dance of a god.