African Renaissance

By Wayne Visser

A single seed, on fertile ground
That’s how it all got started
A single seed, nothing profound
No heroes crowned or martyred
 
The revolution will not come
From barren speeches made on high
The battle will be fought and won
In ghetto streets and fields gone dry
 
Soon, from this ravaged land will rise
A homestead built on ruins of war
As children celebrate the prize
Of peace that lets their spirit soar
 
A single seed, that sets down roots
And dreams of swirling colours bright
A single seed, that sends out shoots
And bursts into a world of light
 
The rising up will not be planned
By men in suits and greasy palms
The sign will flash from hand to hand
On factory floors and peasant farms
 
Soon, learning and empowering
Will break the chains of slavery
The men will dance and women sing
An end to jails of poverty
 
One seed becomes a million scattered
Far and wide across the sands
And like a million raindrops splattered
Dust will change to verdant lands
 
The waking up will not be quiet
As drums beat loud with new decree
The dawning is a glorious riot
Of people marching to be free
 
Soon, from this cradle, bells will ring
To spread glad tidings round the earth
A brand new story will begin:
This renaissance – a second birth

 

Wayne Visser © 2014

 

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Page I Am an African (book)

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