A indigenous spirit stirs, a squall in the vast ocean,

Look! It is sweltering,

Then the force held it up high, and hurls it,

Landing in the realm of New Orleans,

Her progeny were strewn to the four winds,

Her abode drown with misery, and despair,

Why was there so much spiritual abhorrence for her?

She nurtured her babies through resonance, coaching them, Even in death, the elation of music, a divine love?

She increasingly held them secure Mother New Orleans,

She taught them to rejoice and name it Mardi Gras

She taught them dress up and extend gladness amid those

Who seek her abode?

New Orleans spirit awaken the next sunrise,

Tears abundant, she furnish through misty thoughts,

What has transpired?

Like a mother who has seen her dwelling ruined,

Her broods location unknown, her babies misplaced,

She plummets to her knees a thunderous Roar is heard,

Imploring, demanding voices ascend,

Hoist the trumpet, Unlock the tone,

Tap the rhythms of the heartbeat of your brothers and sisters; Inform them that I am riddled with anguish in silence,

Awaken mother be not angered, we are rebuilding your house,

Enlivening the trumpet, pounding the drums,

Sturdy voices of scat,

Now the sun shines brighter,

The water has ebb,

The streets are silent,

Homes are still broken and living with lack luster of love,

Like a mother who over sees that baby who can’t function Like the rest

She sits and waits for there to be a transformation.