Over The Rainbow And Beyond The Clouds Lord Can You Hear My Cries

In the hunt for hidden treasures, riches of golden pleasures    
The map compass is sending me on a journey I started early this morning      
Been all over the world, gathering mysteries    
Rested my head in third world countries, adopting their histories      
We take so many things for granted we have in our sole possession      
Laborer of hands, cut off for conflict diamonds, mines patrolled and controlled by government given weapons      
Children’s faces of silent tears, village raids hidden from fears      
You ask me why I choose to say, I once nursed unto presence, held hands as I quietly prayed      
The arrival of UNICEF or Red Cross mission, its wondrous assisting salvation      
Rice, beans, cholera murky water, pestilences, daily starvation      
   
In America, we want, comforted by our needs      
Do you ever take the moment to think someone else’s heart bleeds      
It weeps for peace      
Dominated by a strong hold in the Middle East      
It cries out for the land to replenish      
No seeds sown, land cracked and diminished      
Tusks of elephants hunted in jungles as they roam, this heartless concept does hit home      
     
Poachers aiming no more they stand      
Now considered Smuggled Ivory Contraband      
Safari eyes have seen in the motherland      
Those piano keys      
Blood Ivory Tusks that plays such sweet melodies      
Pictures of the people, the villages, a long-distance heartfelt romance      
Midwives, flies, propaganda lies, riddles the lands      
     
How could I close my eyes to memories of missionary relief      
Strange occurrences, crooked political system with no guided spiritual beliefs      
I may write as a sexy dame, however, remembrance of Soweto’s villages of tin      
Beautiful names behind smiles of origin      
Nurse duties advised, not to judge, turn a blind eye in time      
Skin pigmentation, not aged like fine wine      
A forgotten country, citizens living among mud, poor educational system, hunger, and flies      
     
Exploited on television, Haiti allowed me to spread my wings, set me free to be me      
So much work still to do in Africa, not by one’s hands      
Donations among any natural disaster falling short to deliver to woman or man      
Locked out, eyes to heaven as I’ve looked up      
Suburban privileges not sipped from everyone’s cup      
     
Separatism, it tried      
Multicultural, with still privileged prying eyes      
Albino grief as said, gives wealth, good luck, not sin      
Taken from mother’s arms killed for the color of their skin      
Witch Doctors unethical Healers      
Trafficking body parts like Tanzania organ dealers      
     
I wish we all could live as one and the same      
The Ten Commandments should have condemned to hell by names      
Who really does no wrong      
On that theory I could go on all night long      
From the preacher to the teacher      
Can’t we all just get along      
Then again, it’s no longer echoed as a world peaceful song      
That concept died by skin tone alone      
     
This poem came to me      
While praying on my knees      
Asking forgiveness of American’s sins      
Taking the burdens back to its origin as this creation could begin once again      
Replaced now with worldly peace      
Things of importance such as technology will be decreased      
Talking to one another with receptive intentions will be increased      
Locked out      
Beyond a shadow of a doubt      
Locked out of what      
The divine answers uncut      
   
#CelebratingBlackHistoryMonth        
 
1st Edition (Published 1st Oct 2018-Locked Out)  
Picture compliments of Pinterest  
   
   
   
I remember this experience as if it was yesterday. It was so much adversity, drawbacks before even getting on the plane, being I do not get vaccinations, due to religion purposes. My college professor and two nurses had to do some amazing hoops and loops... we had to go through various drastic measures, waiting for the approval was the hardest... That was one time my passport and my native French speaking dialect came into play. Nonetheless, we were all over South and then West Africa that entire summer, I had to be sort of isolated from everyone... That was the first time, I wore a headscarf or a gele  on my head the entire three weeks in one part of that country, my curls were so deflated, brittle, and a tad deep brownish from that harsh sun...    
   
And there are rules to properly wear a headscarf, it denotes if you are married or single. The mosquitoes were the worse part and seeing those villagers in those diamond mines in West Africa... such a travesty the world would never know about until you have seen it, felt the woes, or seen the horrific evidence    
   
That was the one time in my life I have ever questioned my faith, my Haitian ancestral faith, the Creator... it was truly an eye opening experience