The Obama Serenades IV

Our Kinsman Slept under Our Roof

Tonight
is a great night
for Ghana
and Africa
and America
and Asia
and Europe
and Australia
and South America
and all the world as well…

tonight
Africa's first
American son
is at home
and at peace
with himself,
being also
among
his own…

a decade ago,
the Scottish one
declined
to spend
the night
with us,
a rapturous
adulating crowd,
surfeit affection
and all;
he would rather
spend the night
with his own
and among
his own…
one could hardly
blame him,
for he deeply knew
what we have known
all our lives:
blood is thicker
than water,
even as the palm
of one's hand
is known to afford
greater comfort
than the back
of the same…

a decade ago,
the great Scotsman
flatly declined
the warmth
of the best bed
in our home;
we felt piqued
and even miffed
by such diplomatic
slight;
still,
we couldn't blame him
for distrusting
our candid offer
of comfort
and love,
for one couldn't
always be as certain
of friendship as
of kinship bonds…

and so tonight
is a cloud-nine night
for Ghana
and Africa;
tonight,
we shall camp
by the fireplace,
softly and
sweetly while
the cool,
starry night away
with wisdom-filled tales
callously severed
in the telling
when those blue-eyed men
weighed anchor
on our shores;
that was when
our familial links
fell apart,
that was when
our children lost
their innocence
and our parents
and grandparents
lost touch
with themselves
and their souls…

tonight,
we shall camp
by the fireplace
and catch up
with epic events
of the past,
even as we pledge
to never foul
our birth-waters
again…

Africa's first
American son
came home tonight;
we always knew
this day would come to pass,
it was all
just a matter
of time
and tide,
a matter of the ant-butcher's
deliberate care …
Africa's first
American son
came home tonight,
and then
we felt
the very weight
of the world
in our sway;
Africa's first
American son
returned home tonight,
and our entire village
went agog
with tears
of joy…

7/10/09

By Kwame Okoampa-Ahoofe, Jr.

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