The Light from Egypt
The early winter in Europe, breezing
across the night, fast running,
through my flesh and blood,
amidst colours, my black feels odd.
I see you ease between your fingers,
a run-away smoke,
the smoke of cold or peers or fashion?
But I know it,
the smoke of wanting to be loved it is.
the smoke of not being left out.
But a black beauty I’ve seen.
Expressing my desire, hope it is no sin.
Eyes of yours,
glittering with a course;
a pause to think of civilization,
a pause to know Egypt fathered our present education.
you being the only light of EGYPT,
arise, come to me,
let us stand aloof of global pressure,
and show Griffith our African culture,
the culture mother of all nations.