ECHOES

Home is where you will find me
Here I do not exist
Put me under the African sun
Play me a tune on the Atumpan drum
For here I do not exist.
Home is where you will find me
Here I barely exist.
Tell me Ananse stories in the night
Gather the folks and sing by the fire side
For here I do not exist.
I am just the wind passing through
I brush up the branches and so pruned
Invisible as I come through
The sounds I hear are surely echoes
The shrills and glee of gathering mangoes
The orchestra of the Harmattan winds
Friendships of closeness distance twins
Home is where you will find me
Here I barely exist.
Sliced and halves of loaves shared
Warmth that buttered with care
Mother's pots of goodness
Lick the plates not a speck spared
The dusty lanes and rocky terrains
Wooden lorries bumpy journeys
The cat and mice chase to entertain
Home is calling me..or is it just echoes?