And when at last a thought does fly,
I, Poet, fire missing words
And whisper gestures to the sky,
Risking life among the birds.
And when these birds of heaven die,
And hills of sugar wash away,
I, Pan, come to sweetly cry,
Burying now my fallen prey.
I Poet, the haunted hunter, hunt
The cynic’s soul; the lover’s mind,
Unleashing dogged faith in front
And aiming upwards ride behind.
And when at last I leave the chase,
Hands in cold valleys, swinging low
I scoop hope from the river’s face,
Ahead, another hill to go.
•••Chanzo Greenidge (Twylight Seven): Vocals and Keyboards
Tinika Davis: Congas; Oba Kiteme: Percussion
Executive Producer: Chanzo Greenidge
Producer: Oba Kiteme
Assistant Producer/Engineer: Lamar ‘Beebo’ Pollard
•••Chanzo Greenidge (Twylight Seven) lives in Trinidad & Toronto. His poetry and songwriting reflects ongoing work on migration, memory and diaspora in the Black Atlantic. He is currently working on translation of Um pouco além das rimas by Brazilian author Izaqueu Alves.
“and when these birds of heaven die, and hills of sugar wash away, I, Pan, come to sweetly cry, Burrying now my fallen prey…” just lovely. i am liking the rhyme, quite sonnety.
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