My Root Poem by Edward Kofi Louis

Action speaks louder than words,
But a picuture wealths more than a thousand word.
Bring me home to the place that i belong to and,
Teach me how to fish for my daily food;
For each heart knows its own bitterness.

I am their byword and their object of ridicle,
Like the homes appointed to all the living;
But my glory will remain fresh within me always.
Oh, a harp turns into mourning;
And they remain silence for my counsel,
But my root is spreadout to the waters of love.

They waited for me like the summer,
Of men and women alike to learn from my muse;
But like the summmer rain,
I was rather like the winter rain on their joy.

To bath with cream and to sing for joy,
In the prime of my life to look for my root;
But i am the hope of the poor like,
Beni Nebal and Beni Shem.