RED BLACK & MOONLIGHT
@2000 Marguerite Laurent; Windows on Haiti special edition
a) Much like here b) Bwa Kayiman
e) Vodun Woman i) Rolling on j) Beyond 2004
l) Self-Defense
If you've ever entered a space, gone towards working "within the system" because you did not now how else to enter. If you've ever gone towards corporate-land, a profession or even a romance that you knew, from the beginning, you had no business entering, but did anyway. Grann mwen te fè l, Grann had. Then you'll understand some of the stuff i’ve been talking about 'cause once upon a time, She too, with her open valley spirit and temperament had opened herself up to enfold strangers from Europe; her land, Mother Africa has never recovered.
Well, once upon a time, i was the woman following the wrong drummer; the dance was traumatic, the music made chaotic. This is called, In The Distance.
IN THE DISTANCE
In the distance, way off in the distance, i heard his drum.... I wanted to follow it because i was really dumb and young and i believed i could return to me, after the dance. I was confident, the dance would not change me. In fact, i was so stupid and egotistical i felt i was good for him. Blithely i went to him.
Now, now i know.
Every dance molds me. Every moment i am new. There is never a going back, ever. Every new adventure or self-assigned mission changes me. Each experience shifts me.
There were few harmonious times. After years of confusion, of swirling in the vortexes of emotional and cerebral unfaithfulness, like, this traumatic chorus, i stood still one day, and, in the silence, heard...the drum within.
A faint, flickering sound at first since the habit of doubt had ripped my confidence apart during our obsessive trance.
Now, now i know.
Now I only hear the beat of my soul's desires and unwaveringly give my will, my lifeforce to that drummer. We are one, my desires and i. There is no separation, no violence, i am not alone. There is no effort in following the sounds, the lights, the loves i am.
The beat nourishes and a song unfolds. I am the music.
Now, now i know.~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ I’m here, Grann, still. Rolling, rolling, rolling.... with love and hate. And on that Wave's time, you can record whatever you want. My bridges were burnt long before i even walked over them. I was born to fall, fall, fall. Hey! give me that.
She's here. The ancient Grangrann, zansèt ak timoun yo, yo la; Les-Marasa yo, yo la. Our Ancestor, that is, our culture is here. In the visible and invisible. We are immersed in a loving canvass. Coffins and crashing airplanes en route to Promised Land's don't frighten us now. WAVES crashing over our boats don't make us gone. Beneath the seas, anba Dlo - powerful souls catch each other. Walk with Grangrann mwen yo. Vain imaginings need not suffocate. Tap, tap, tap into coded knowledge, our stored energies. Let go and know: A part of what I am once took that U turn, went to where she was born and represented a real Minister called Exume. All palimpsest realities aside, Atlantis is already rising, exhumed from its burial grounds. Stand before it. Listen..... Nou La!
Nou la! "We have come, threading our path through the blood of the slaughtered."
Nou La!