Thirsting for the Sun

Photo by Stuart Tonge

I am longing for my fatherland today, longing for my father's land.  Dreaming of hibiscus flowers and coconut water, of the gold coast, of Acquaye's past and present, of the bustling and hectic sounds of tuesday market at Mamprobi. I am thirsty for the sun. Too long has it been since its warmth seeped into my skin, into my veins, since a fine dew covered my face, my neck, where light clothes feel so heavy and you spread your toes in open shoes. I am longing for my fatherland today, those lyrics that I wrote long ago stirring and stirring in me:

'Longing, belonging to a place buried inside. I won't dismay, at chipping away at hope. In slow motion, I have to play down the significance, of this place my father called home. Remembering, both the tears and joy. Riding a wave, purging my desire. Finding all the gaps are real. So now I roll in truth, true to the bone.' 

Photo by Stuart Tonge