Congratulations, mother Ghana to your 57 years.
You stand proud. You remember happy days filled with sunshine and song, sad days of abuse and pain, regular days with little water, but much warmth and the not so regular days with a trip to the beach waiving a flag. With a black star. With a cold Star in hand. You smile thinking of your children. You wish their lives would be easier. Behind you lie dusty accounts of history, some still not unearthed, some bleached by the sun.
But what lies ahead, if we open the door, what is next?
This post is inspired by the many fine poetry blogs we have in Ghana.
