I rolled to the left,
And back to the right
I sat on the mat,
And streams of flashbacks came
I saw in the pillow
Wishing tongues of memories…

Yesterday seemed like today
The old folktales still tasting fresh
Like a distilled palm wine fetched at dawn
Our tales,
Their tales,
Our childrens’ tales
Came walking on my mind
And yesterday still felt
Like today in my skin….

How I wish my nose smelled
Like the morning when Opanin Kweku
Used to sell his roasted antelope meat
At the market of “Obratwer owu”— life depends on death
Before greeting his traps in the farm

How I wish my feet took a stroll
At the three paths on the dew at dawn
When Agya Atta used to battle his hunting skills
At pitched night under the forest
In search for ‘okotopey’—snails

How I wish I were alive
When the braveness of “Asebu Amenfi”
Caught the admiration of the sun
To marry day before it died
He lived, made history
And forbid the oak from sprouting
And so it is that I still yearn
To have lived to see “Osofo Egya Ahor”
Being sacrificed for an end to an epidemic

Times have changed
Times have really changed a lot
And moment of truth, lost
True legends so soon forgotten
As culture and traditions
Live daily in tombs and in hide-outs
Weeping for why men
Would crave the hearts of women …..

Nana Arhin Tsiwah
© All copyrights reserved, 2015


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