Poem: Maraka-kore

Maraka-kore...
shakes his spell no more...
or sings of the Land above the Sky...
Guyana...they call you Land of Many Waters...
but Land of many Splinters and Shadows...
you'll always be to me...
For I have heard tell of Manarowa walking tall
and Amalwaca's hand writing high on the wide rock...
and all the schemes and plans for tomorrow...
and all the shiny highways
through the heart of the Land of my Fathers...
will not make me forget how things were...
before the assassin set foot on your green shores...
and turned your slowly spinning wheel
of Earth and Sky...
into a broken thing...
beside the brown Atlantic............