Doh Re Mi by Melson

Doh Re Mi

Twelve notes travel on the rail
Headed towards West Africa
Then three fell on the hide of an animal
Beautifully crafted for the kings

The man whose feet became sore
Saw and felt a vibe that shoed his leg
The woman whose hopes have been dashed
By the pestle of cruelty and mortar of a vague mole
Rolled downwards only to find that the
Light was never gone; the luminous
Beats of bàtá carried them on their backs
To her, hope is restored

That child whose gums would never rest
That child whose teeth were never whole
That child whose words will soon shape
Sang to the tune hewn by the rhythm of gángan–the song of an innocent smile

Twelve notes indeed travel on the rail
Headed towards our shores
Then three fell on the hides
Our mind, soul, feet and body are
Yet to fully understand what makes
It bend, twist and swing the hands
With a reckless abandon
Whenever the drums speak
The words: Doh, re, mi

©Melson