By Kaylee Meyer
Dawn
First day’s light breathes life and stirs the living to be awake
Amazed by the colour of the sky as the sun rises in the East
With shades the colour of pink flamingos, orange sorbet and yellow bell flowers
And we greet it with moans and groans, squinting eyes and wishes for a slight delay in its punctuality
But as it disappears,
When it sets below the line of perfection and hope between dark blue water and clear blue skies
Its flame disappears, leaving the sky on fire
This beauty stuns and hypnotizes us
Making us wish that it will stay there so we may be in eternal awe
Days we take for granted
Were days that were once dreaded
Beginning a day with continuous labour
These people were strong from the start
Days ending with slight relief that it was over, although if only for a while
They endured heat from our Golden sun that scorched their dark skin
They ploughed land and nurtured it with attentive care
To yield fields of sugary gold and potential bottles of spirit lifting rum
None of which they would receive
Their labour & enslavement was their life
But in this paradise they sang songs of escape, secrets, jokes, melee and freedom
It gave them uplifting and joyful moments and bonded them closer together
These songs lived on with the time
And were shared and passed on
Even now they can be still heard
Because of the inheritance of history
Under this sun
We frolic and squish our toes in White Sand
Decorated with fine pink diamond dust
And sit in the shade and let the sun toast our skin
While enjoying the view of the vast, endless, beautiful Blue sea and sky
We now enjoy the elements they once dreaded & feared
We have embraced it as a part of us
These fields were reaped, burnt and revived
Into -with time and sacrifice- Our soil
Fertilized by the bodies of our ancestors
Leaving it Black and dark as their skin
And as rich as their labour made Massas
We now build our lives and homes on these lands-
As we did once before –
Raising families, and providing for them
Developing Our Independent Island
Now reaping the land’s fullest potentials
Their blood watered the trees from which they hung
And the cane fields which they were flogged and killed in
Drawn in by the roots of those same trees and fields
Red
It soaked the ground
And became a part of our roots
We moved beyond that time
Taking along with us the lessons learned
Sharing that culture and history
We celebrate Our Emancipation in the streets of Our Little Island
Dressed in colours of pride and glee
With music playing- evolved from what we used to know
But everyday
We sing
We dance
We laugh
We smile
This is who we are victorious, independent, happy and free
Author’s bio: Kaylee Meyer, 18 years old, is an honourable mention in the Wadadli Pen Challenge, 18 to 35 age category. She says, “I like being creative; from a young age I was encouraged to write stories and share them. Writing poems has been a hobby of mine for many years. I also like to read, paint, draw and create things using scrap materials I collect. I hope that later on in my life I will be a well recognised artist and author.”
Copyright belongs to the author; so, no stealing.
Wadadli Pen 