It flourishes in the tropical sun
Its colours radiant
A burst of sun
It dots the land
In a tropical breeze
Were the coconut trees
Sway too and thro
The sent sways sweetly
Around you in bliss
Its colours so soft
It makes you think
Of a rainbow just passed
In it’s beautiful wake
Vibrant the colours
Captured in tapestry art
A custom we have
From a culture lost
Its beauty sublime
It’s a work of art
One that was made
By the creators hand
The Light Wraps You
The light wraps you in its mortal flame.
Abstracted pale mourner, standing that way
against the old propellers of the twighlight
that revolves around you.
Speechless, my friend,
alone in the loneliness of this hour of the dead
and filled with the lives of fire,
pure heir of the ruined day.
A bough of fruit falls from the sun on your dark garment.
The great roots of night
grow suddenly from your soul,
and the things that hide in you come out again
so that a blue and palled people
your newly born, takes nourishment.
Oh magnificent and fecund and magnetic slave
of the circle that moves in turn through black and gold:
rise, lead and possess a creation
so rich in life that its flowers perish
and it is full of sadness.