Words of the mbira


In a dark corner
Waiting alone,
An African man
Was thinking of home.

His mind went up north
To a land that he left
For the ruler was cruel
And accused him of theft.

Cautiously I approached
So not to disturb
The sound in the night
Which had me perturbed.

A thought crossed my mind
And I put it to him:
Let me say the words
And your instrument sing.

He agreed yet unsure
About this type of art
Of words that play songs
That speak to his heart.

On the mystical mbira
With the music in tune
Words were spoken
One night in June.

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This Poems Story

The poem is not a metaphor but tells of an actual event. I heard the sound of an instrument one night and I proposed to the player of the instrument that I add the words to his tune. I cannot recall the words but the symmetry in art of words and the mbira was unbelievable.