. w
i
s
d
o
m
The ancient pot dug from
The milky chest of the
Earth. Painted with
The blood of Asaase Yaa
Echoing her cries with tongue
Of lightning and voice of thunder
Molded in the palms of Nana Nyame
From clay mixed with His sweat,
and
Baked in His hot furnace of
perfection
You have been on the tripod of life
Flames liking your bottom with
Smoky tongues yet you've
Remained pure, sans
stains of soot
©Sarpong Kumankoma
12-08-2015
2222hour
Photo credit: MY VIOLET POT
No comments:
Post a Comment