'The Child' by Saidu Mark Jatau

Beneath the heat of the dancing feet,I hear the voice of one callingI hear it far awaySo far awayThat I knew it was so close to my heart.

I hear the soundA tiny little frightening sound,So strong but so tenderLike that of a singing sea waveThat made path through the crowd to seeAnd tearing open the melodious heart of a loving mother.

I hear the chanting of a songWhose rhythm appease the curious ears of an already born deaf old dancerAnd employing the feet of a lame to rockIf only I was a dancer,My feet would have created a circle like a carnival.And since I couldn’t sing as well, this song of a voice shall stale in my heart forever.

Now that the wind is stillAnd the moon is fullthe stars refuse to lie fairAnd all is still againI wish for a sound,that same old rhythmic sound!If only I can hear that melancholic screeching sound of no retreat

That sound that only draws closer to love that hate!That sound that soothing the passion of pain even while memories are fresh!That sound of affection!That sound of attention!That sound of expression!That voice of echoes of a crying child that draws the total love of a mother to her child once again!That screeching but tender voice of a crying baby.That cry of love.

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