the diamond is still a stone

what if the brilliance dazzles us

and the play of colors awe us?

the diamond is still a stone.

what if it seems perfectly built

and perfectly woos our greed

with the strangeness of its scarcity

the diamond is still a stone

what if we murder and pillage

and dismember our friends

to hide the cache we stole from our other friends

the diamond is still a stone

what if we adorn our crowns

and guard the realm with zeal

to provide sanctuary for the gem

the diamond is still a stone 

what if we construct fortunes

to allow us covet our neighbours fortunes

and trample his fields in search

the diamond is still a stone

what if we build an altar

and raise an order of levites

to mumble words that are just words

the diamond is still a stone.

We are of the earth

We who bury our umbilical cord in the soil 

We are of the earth

We who live in thatch

And mud houses that breath

We are of the earth

We who pour libations to the ancestors 

Libations of palm wine and cola nuts

We are of the earth

We who clear our patch 

Clear our patch and leave it to grow again

We are of the earth

We who catch our water from the clouds

And drink the brown rivulets coursing through the soil

We are of the earth

We who take what we need

And put it back again to bring forth again what we need

We are of the earth 

We who walk paths among the foliage

Our bare feet caressing the ants and the crickets

We are of the earth

We who eat the leaves and let the fruits fall for the bats

We who seek propitiation when the earth is angry

We are of the earth 

We who look up at the sky

And wonder at the expanse of the sky god

And acknowledge the minuteness of our footprints

We are of the earth

We who do not envy the stars of their starlight

Nor the earth of her riches

We are of the earth

We are of the earth

The Lament of the grasshopper

We will laugh at the ant

Scurrying from heap to heap

We will make merry while he toils

While he hefts grains broader than his chest

Up the log while the morning sings

Over the foliage while the dew leaves the leaves 

We will scamper in the undergrowth

Spread out our  wings to be tinged with the rainbow

Oh, we will greet the morning with a song

Tease the day with our play

Retire the night with our romance

We will laugh at the ant

At his stock of grains

And his stock of crumbs

Perfectly lined to please his eye

Wall to wall, floor to roof

We will follow him across the forest trail

Sipping the nectar he is too busy to see 

Exploring the side paths he can only wonder where they lead

He will hear our singing all day long

He will mark our laughter 

He will vow to see the flowers we have seen

To bask in the rainbow we had flown in

Oh how he will make us beg for warmth in his hearth

And for crumbs from his table

How he will stand on a pedestal

And lecture us, and wave at his hoard

Of grains and crumbs, stretching wall to wall

And we cannot bargain with the song in our heart

Nor share the memories of our adventures 

We cannot advance the taste of our romance

Nor trot out the singe of the rainbow. 

But it's our season

And we have made a reason

For the next season to come

The next season to come and find us frozen in the fields

Our memories floating in the air

For those who will once again dance in the rain.