“Son of the Soil” — A Poem by Sam Petros

I did not come here by foot, my head brushed the brown earth under my mother’s thigh—when I made my grand entry through her.
Our blood stained the green grass, beautifying the nature of my new abode.
I breathed the new air and cried my welcome speech to the world—in hues of black.
I sucked the white substance from a black origin—my mother is black and I drank of the water from the seven rivers.
I crawled, I walked and I fell on our black soil.
My spirit, soul and body—conversing with nature as I take in her fragrance.

I am birthed of a continent where the sun sets to leave the moon and stars as our guide.
I am birthed of a place where the rivers run endlessly and tales of our ancestors on our tongues.
I am African, birthed of pure blood, I am the son of my fathers, a son of the soil.

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