Xaymaca

Energy centers—potent

Dispersed to cardinal points

Creative genius in her midst

Roses shooting rapidly out of concrete

.

Inspiration for the masses

Scientific discoveries

Music touching the very soul

Revolutionaries, told and untold

.

There’s something in the soil

Or is it in the air?

Her culture, an icon for the world

Her sons’ and daughters to share

.

Wood, water flowing—abundant

Mountains the world to treasure

Herbs for healing nations

Endless fun and pleasure

.

But not all her genius uplifts

Evil flourishes alongside good

Blood runs freely like her rivers

Words, to the bones, bring shivers

.

Loot up for grabs, scammers aplenty

Hearts devoid of love—just empty

Future in the green isle looks grey

Urging the next revolutionary this way

.

Yet they are all here already

Hidden behind scowls and iron

Viewing mere slights as an offense

Waging wars with deadly weapons

.

But there’s a zeitgeist a-coming

The opposite of fear and dread

This egregor’s days are numbered

It’s the dying cry of a dinosaur

©️ Larisa Monaé

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Categories: Jamaica, Poetry

Tags: , , ,

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