The rain kept me praying
and I winced at every railing.
My servants had abandoned me
but I myself I could not flee.
For all my wealth I was never free
but the stars they smile at me.

I was resting in the fields last night,
the darkness seemed light.
I stumbled over dreams of old
and the trees were made of gold,
gold for loves they’d sold.
But the stars they shine in me.

My Africa is red and brown.
I have yet to find my hometown.
The air is like frozen life,
You can cut it with a knife,
and the sailor plays his fife
and the stars they guide him.

Among the oaks and cypress trees
in the garden of release,
I jumped from stone to stone,
carrying my bag of bones,
seeking out a quiet zone,
and the stars they smile at me.


from Cocktail Culture, released September 4, 2013


all rights reserved



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