To Ghana
              (Edgar O. Lake)

Ghana, we send you our heartbeat
Torn from everything else
And yet stirred by the seawater again

Once we had sent Rebekka
Who met Protten in Herrnhut
Together they returned to Ghana
And wrote a Twi dictionary
Together they opened a school for children
But gunpowder is a bitter kolanut
And we became separated

We had prepared Cornelius
And he began to prepare others
He studied Phillip Quaque's letters
And re-wrote them as his own
Bu the trade winds whispered: stay,
Grace those who have been crossing
And singing and listening for so long
Rest with them here

But we still long for warm palm oil
Our eyelids still droop heavily
From fighting alongside you at Jaga
The hyena laughed at us in Kwango
But we bound up the memory of Edinaa
Into a cotta for heavy burdens:

Now we let down our crown of cloth
Only to dance the pitchy-patchy masquerade
A dancing quilt for our lullabies
Still, we can hear our hearts pounding
As the salt of time is borne by the sea
Nothing has muffled its rhythmic tremors

We have tried to raise the palaver flag
Of our Elmina Governors
Who sat together witnessing John Connu's forts
Go from Dutch to English colors
But our children are still sewing
Its ragged fluttering edges

Meanwhile, our women dance the Bamboula
Using the flag as their skirts
And when the blind man passes, we say:
It is only the palm trees at Anomabu
When he taps his cane to the beat
It is the great dam of Akosombo
We have taken care of those who were sent to us:
Nkrumah, Osei, Awooner, Sarah
Gratitude was the ale of our grief

Our tears are home plots in Tres Puntas
When we clear our throats
It is still to hear King Opuku Ware speak
When we stand still
it is to catch our breath from Assemeni
"King of Akwamu", we would say,
"Take the marks of gold!"
"Weave them into the cloth Oyokoman"

Dear Great Asantehene:
We are one cloth; we are coming

But we still see Quaque
Walking in the hot sands of
Cape Coast Castle