Keorapetse Kgositsile
SANTAMARIA
Is where the vowels dream
in a name among consonants
chasing the crevices of sound
in a ritual longer than the distance
between the shores of the ocean
which cannot expose its hideous memories

Refusing to be blinded by sea water
Mongo is not from the Congo
but on conga or any drum
Mongo gathers all our memories
like the crop of an abundant harvest
from the oracle of his palms
and commands them to the bidding
of the polyrhythmic dance of life

He whose hands speak
a people's ethos on skin and wood
sagging with memory and resolve
is a sacrifice like the son

Poet, what words couId have
the eloquence of his hands at work or play
to nourish your life