IWOKRAMA

Way up, even farther up than even eye can spy

A solitary drifting hawk marking out the sky

Down below the manatee gone hunting for some grass

And birdlife far too plenty now to pass.

Sometimes total silence comes, all you hear is breeze

And all you see each time you look is miles and miles of trees

They call it Iwokrama, way out in the somewhere

A place of contemplation and refuge, bright and clear.

 

Even honey bee gone lazy, them too sleeping through,

Lazy creek and river, towering bamboo

This piece of earth I live in, this winding road, this grass

The striking sound of children, laughing as they pass

Sprawling open pasture, grateful for the rain

Smoke from fire drifting, hanging like a stain

 

The open field just dancing, the brown creek rushing by

Breezes moving tree top, bits of bright blue sky

No Bourda Market clamour, no traffic light, no fuss

No ringing sound, no ginching, no frustrated cuss

Nature in a cocoon, bird with flowing comb

This place where I man live now, I see that when I roam

It brings me daily comfort, it tells me I am home.

Looking past the ancient brook, where lizards find a peaceful nook,

Sakiwinki wide expressive grin, and Harpy Eagle drama

Our world within, this refuge,  Iwokrama. IWOKRAMA

Way up, even farther up than even eye can spy

A solitary drifting hawk marking out the sky

Down below the manatee gone hunting for some grass

And birdlife far too plenty now to pass.

Sometimes total silence comes, all you hear is breeze

And all you see each time you look is miles and miles of trees

They call it Iwokrama, way out in the somewhere

A place of contemplation and refuge, bright and clear.

 

Even honey bee gone lazy, them too sleeping through,

Lazy creek and river, towering bamboo

This piece of earth I live in, this winding road, this grass

The striking sound of children, laughing as they pass

Sprawling open pasture, grateful for the rain

Smoke from fire drifting, hanging like a stain

 

The open field just dancing, the brown creek rushing by

Breezes moving tree top, bits of bright blue sky

No Bourda Market clamour, no traffic light, no fuss

No ringing sound, no ginching, no frustrated cuss

Nature in a cocoon, bird with flowing comb

This place where I man live now, I see that when I roam

It brings me daily comfort, it tells me I am home.

Looking past the ancient brook, where lizards find a peaceful nook,

Sakiwinki wide expressive grin, and Harpy Eagle drama

Our world within, this refuge,  Iwokrama.