voices

The south wind blows
the north wind whispers
winds many winds joining in
everyone calling for attention
a beckoning to embrace
another to be man enough
I hear them call and call
each voice saying this is it
So many of them confuse

Africa, my playing field

I am turning around
heading for the cliff edge
Africa is my playing field
I can hear the crowd roaring

I hear him calling me out
they are waiting for you he says
Africa is your playing field
go out and make me proud

Watch me rise to heights
he found me to stand in the gap
Africa is my playing field
let all the nations praise Him

It's a Small World

It's a world of laughter
A world of tears
It's a world of hopes
And a world of fears
There's so much that we share
That it's time we're aware
It's a small world after all

There is just one moon
And one golden sun
And a smile means
Friendship to everyone
Though the mountains divide
And the oceans are wide
It's a small world after all

It's a small world after all
It's a small world after all
It's a small world after all
It's a small, small world

Written by: Richard M. Sherman & Robert B. Sherman

Justified Shatter

The image is shattered
pieces won't hold together
feeble I am without Him
I stumble and fall at introspection
filthy rags I see in the mirror
focusing above Shall I
to the truth I cling hard
I am a reflection
an image of the almighty
with righteousness he clothed me
just as if I never sinned

The Rebirth

Beneath the ice surface is a world unexplored
the mamoth and her friends all immobilized
warmth of the sun promises a coming rebirth
an embrace of tales unspoken for a time now

Shall the dry bones live again or so I ask
the mortal man is speechless, shall they?
He searches in his hearts of hearts for a yeah!
to speak he must so life will be restored to these

from many words he selects a few to utter
what shall be of the ice surface he's accustomed
his icy kingdoms must go down for a new world to be
an embrace of tales unspoken for a time now

UN as the best poem of 2008

This poem was nominated by UN as the best poem of 2008, Written by an
African Kid

When I born, I black
When I grow up, I black
When I go in Sun, I black
When I scared, I black
When I sick, I black
And when I die, I still black

And you white fellow
When you born, you pink
When you grow up, you white
When you go in sun, you red
When you cold, you blue
When you scared, you yellow
When you sick, you green
And when you die, you gray

And you calling me colored?

Crossroads!

its the rock and the hard place
rocky environment and misty place
she knows not how to navigate
anxiety threathens to tip her over
but that won't happen, not today

There is an ancient anchor beneath
unseen to the waves that beat so hard
she was build to sail to worlds beyond
destined for greatness not yet conceived
the anchor holds its place firm

At the crossroads she stands
calling out for wisdom to navigate
her compass turning round and round
O captain of all captains hear her cry
Direct her path, make it brighter.