Midsummer’s night in the Jungles of Africa

valentine friday
Sep 4, 2018 · 1 min read

We exchange starlight for the flickering flames of the oil lamp

The wind shapes into an echo of the repeating poundings of the mortar

The arena for a masquerade is lit up with the reverberations of distant hoots and howls

The mask for our darkened faces, the allure of love for our sweat drenched selves

The love in this place is raw, the kind that the Trojans never knew

Ancient sounds from the drums remind our waists of the times past

The movements of our feet remind the earth of a people once it’s occupants

On a midsummer Night, the African dance comes Alive

The bodies grace the energetic suggestions of the drum with finnesse

Romeo for Nwoke, Juliet for Nwanyi

Even Shakespeare sits as a mere spectator in this arena of African creation.

valentine friday

Written by

Questioner, Observer, star gazer and all round laugh buddy, I write to speak the solitude of my mind

Welcome to a place where words matter. On Medium, smart voices and original ideas take center stage - with no ads in sight. Watch
Follow all the topics you care about, and we’ll deliver the best stories for you to your homepage and inbox. Explore
Get unlimited access to the best stories on Medium — and support writers while you’re at it. Just $5/month. Upgrade