The end of our journey is here, dear readers, and from the bottom of our hearts we thank you for following The Heritage Blog so closely and for being such a big part of this experience.
You have all been in our hearts and in our minds every step of the way: from boarding the airplane at JFK to our final adventure back to Accra. We would not be here if it wasn’t for your love and support.
We have had many adventures that descriptions alone can’t accurately paint the full picture, so dear readers, join me as we delve in the realm of abstraction.
Our first night here at Jimmy com. we experienced a bit of culture shock when we noticed a live chicken tied up and stuck into a black plastic bag, with its feat and head out of it. This lead me to write:
Black Bag Chicken
Black garbage bag chicken
squawks and stops,
struggling to breathe
the soupy air. The crickets
keep it company.
A desperate push deeper
into the brush—an anguished
cry. The pink sky, sympathetic
to the sound of a baby’s cry
in the distance. Flutter and silence.
Does it know?
Can it comprehend the inevitable?
Feet tired, slowly suffocating.
The breeze breathes life
into the quiet night.
flutter and silence.
A lonely cricket shatters
the emptiness. The sky darkens
and the leaves rustle.
When we ventured to the North, and visited the Kintampo waterfalls, I could only describe it as:
Cascading quicksilver covers all
washes clean the ages of time
sand slipping through loose fingers
tears of faith
calling from below
waiting for the sea of change
smiling through it all
still leaves sink to the bottom
but trust hangs in the branches
the roots dig deeper
the camera catches what ceases to exist
and the changing tides disappear
and are never the same
And again as:
The screaming water and rippling voices
fall from the sun into darkness
bare feet brave the white waters
swim in natures chalice
diamond smiles and emerald
gasoline cans—spangled rocks of prayer
the divinity of nature
The haunting drive up to Elmina Castle:
Diamonds on the sky blue water
no line on the horizon where the heavens meet the sea
drifting on a memory of silent
waves splashing into far away lands.
Palm trees explode into the sky
fire green arms explaining divinity
for nobody who cares to listen. The Castle
on the hill sold Gods like dogs to men
who didn’t care to know the difference.
On the serene Coconut Grove beach:
Waves lick the sand
crashing down upon
the crushing vastness
foaming at the mouth
wild and untame
erasing the past
cutting into the future
each crest and fall
what is is no more
what will be
slowly revealing itself
how far is the horizon?
how many licks does it take
to break the stoic rocks
until they are nothing more than
grains of sand?
a child’s castle
imagine the vast kingdom
what power does a king have
compared to time
always ticking always licking
the unforeseen inevitable
a king with a cracked crown
from years of artificial power
diving right; God’s will
how could you be so wrong?
if you looked into the face
of God would you know?
time’s insatiable ticking
into the abyss beyond the breakers
what will remain except the crashing durge
the funeral procession of the waves crashing
time and time again.
On a Kakum bridge:
Inverted energies and
of falling up into the blue sky
The eagles mundane picture frame
looking through the infant eyes
of a sun bear
With feet on solid ground
the sublimity of divinity is realized
the echoes of crackling leaves under feet
crickets calling to nobody in particular
just making the music of Kakum.
On my final morning walk this morning; I met a man named Earnest:
Final hours lost in fog
an Earnest smile from
a stranger and a friend
the fog lifts and leaves love
the ties that binds are stronger
than our differences
the unity man lost behind closed
minds and tangled up
in razor wire
I hope this helped you, dear readers, to understand some of the incomprehensible aspects of the journey.
Peace and Love,