Red Earth (On Going Home)

I'm not sure what I expected.

I just didn't know that earth could be so red.

I wanted to taste the air again and again. Stepping onto the soil I felt its texture against my feet -deep red gravel, as if the earth had been sun-burnt. And I couldn't fathom how earth could be so red. The sky was lined with tall grey offices contrasting with the dirty brown beggars that sat at their feet. I stared in sad disbelief at a little girl who ran up to me with cupped hands and a bag of jingling coins of more value in music than in trade swinging from her waist. My instincts told me that the only thing that stopped our blood from flowing together was our skin. My stride was in step with this place. I walked in city stores, street corners, village alleys and treacherous man-made bridges, and when no one was looking, I stooped down to sink my hands into the red earth. To get a feel for my motherland. I reached down deep to find the heartbeat of the place. And when I looked up and saw a dark blue sky that smelled of rain, I spread my arms and waited... my face wet even before the storm began. I didn't know what to make of it all. How to explain it?

I was just gratefully aware of the privilege

To run into the outstretched arms

Of Africa.