Africa Speaks Reasoning Forum

just follow the path
where the wind blows
and where the leaves
and trees whisper
to us,
memories of ancient afrika
and our arkhan ancestors,
just where the wind blows
billy holiday said
" the southern tree bears bitter fruits"
just follow the wind
and thats where you will see,
and i shall return to the center
it is one of those painful staking process,
where the soul looks fora base to make progress
likea tree,with many roots,
african tree is spread out the globe,
some fruits ar good and some food are bad
and rotten.

where the wind blows,
dont build castle on the sand,
to be destroyed in the next day.
as the elders say
where you planta tree,
thats where it will grow.
and the fruit dont fall too far from the tree,

where the wind blow,
we as hue mans have and acquire the ultimate
desire to be free. [smiley=2thumbsup.gif]

The wind blows north,
past the vast yellow sea,
to Carthage, and the delta, and the awesome Thebes,
Past strong Atlas, where the heavens are hinged,
To the tower of Alexandria, 'ere the barbs were kings.
It seeks the pharaoh, and the sons of Hannibal.
For battle is coming, "Hear the Drums of War!"

The wind blows south,
round the Cape of Good Hope,
To find the kin of heros and warriors old,
"Tis strange," he muses, " These lands i once knew,"
"When valiance and courage was as sweet as dew,
But here the sons of the land, seem greedy and knew.
Rot' is the seed of Shaka the Zulu."

The wind runs west,
where the music is best,
Remembering the times of the warrior's quest,
Here, the ancestor's battled in earnest,
The Madinka, Songhai, Mali were truest,
Shall he find a spear among flies,
A soul that heeds to the old battle-cry?

To the East, he blows where the rum is sweet,
O'er the mountains of the moon, and the valley-rift,
Here walked the Chwezi, the sons of gods,
And mages so powerful, their slaves were Lords,
"Per chance, in these lands there is hope,
That a voice shall stir the hearts of the strong,"
But alas! there's nothing, only men bound to stone,

Why the wind blows,
few can tell,
But he is youg and tireless in his search for tales,
He seeks out the great and heroes in off-,
so he can sing their song, ages after they're gone,
The wind blows home, to our hearts, young rebel,
And one day, he will whisper of the African Rebel.

 :D ohh that was so nice medase pa for the implementation

continued

where the wind blows,
i hear songs of my ancient ancestors
from vassouras,a sugar mill in brazil,
to zumbi dos palmares
the blood that runs in my veins flows
like the amazon river,
and at the other side flows the nile,
where the lions of afrika
will be,thats where i will be
almicar cabral,
and many others who came before me> [smiley=2thumbsup.gif]

where the wind blows,
still no one knows,
from whence it spawns,
is the secret of gods,
where the wind goes,
is a mystery to all,
but for the the arkhan scholars,
who have long since gone.

but what the wind brings,
to the African fields,
is no lore or fable to the land's offspring,
the courier of whispers, the voice of grief,
the wind is a messenger, that none can kill.

it dries the sweat of the solitude farmer,
and aids the ears of the lonesome lover,
its sings old songs, of bastards and orphans,
and soothes the ache of the oppressed servant.

i know not the chasm from whence it blows,
nor the deep ravines it calls its home,
but i know the gifts the wind bestows,
to those, still and quiet, who list' to its voice.