At times I think I can hear the drums
drums of our ancestors calling to me
songs they planted in my heart
words I can't speak, yet I seem to know
or at least feel in my soul
A walk in the woods, brings
fantom sounds of the jungle
leaning my head back eyes closed
and thinking I can feel the ground shake
from herds of beast, running in mass
sniffing the air, trying to capture
exotic fruits on the vine, ripe and lush
this was to have been my promised life
this is the land I was to have been free
where religion was a prayer to the sky
to the water and land walked upon
one where the elders were revered
taken care of and loved
I long to go home, just once in my life
but where is home? I know not where
so I will visit it here in my dreams
speaking with the old souls, long gone
knowing they can hear their daughter