THE EAST WIND BLOWING
(Our Ancestor still weeping)
For four hundred years and more
The east winds, constant in motion,
From Mother Afrika to the Caribbean,
And ships with their cargoes of Africans
For plantations on these islands.
Our Ancestors wept torrents of tears,
In the journey to nowhere,
A journey to an uncertain future.
The east wind still blows,
The ocean tides sweep westwards,
Bringing storms and hurricanes
Of unprecedent length and strength,
Leaving behind a trail of destruction
Across this chain of beautiful islands.
Has fate condemned us!
Will August forever be one of preparation
For the uncertain, the unknown?
Will September be one of fear and despair?
Will torrents of our tears flow
Year after year! Year after year
As our ancestors did before?
Yes, the east wind still blows,
And the tides sweep westwards!
Wycherley Gumbs
