To the T

The lights lay low
Lanterns hang heavy over the ceiling, Pregnant with energy, but shining very little light
The ambiance wraps its arm around the audience
As if to say hello
The room is small
Covered with paintings and art,
Talking drums stay tapered to the wall, quiet
A faint hue of white beckons through
Tall sculptured men of wood stand guard as the breasts of their companions hang free
Glass bookcases are laden with stories
Filled in books
Written by authors that tell tales of great men
Each tale, individual and idealistic
Reminiscent of many people and different views
All with one voice
The location is less than perfect
Tiny drops indeed lead into a mighty ocean, setting a trap in wait for those un-knowing
Okada men refuse to go any further
The trek becomes a slight bother as wet boots and slippery shoes stand in line
Pedicures ruined
Regardless, excitement builds heavy hearts and free minds alike tread the path
Tiny bricks hold firm as they connect two worlds
the road ahead winds and bends and narrows
teasing the impatient and tempting the uneasy to turn back
Then suddenly, light
a nook bursts forth into a space were dreams become reality
Distinct from everyday hustle and bustle
filled with people fleeing their troubles, a new generation gathers here
Taruwa
all friends, no foe, no ladders, no “ho’s”
class and stratification exist only in the minds of those that insist
each warm body in close proximity, no one seeking anonymity
From modern skirts and business casual
To asymmetric hair with an afro-centric flair
the energy in the room is deliberate and strategic Flowing through every object present,
Each connected by touch
the voice of consciousness booms loud over the speakers even in the midst of silence
The crowd lingers
Anticipation and expectation rising
spoken word is resurrected as tales of love and heartbreak fill the air
Fingers snap in response
Clenched fists fill with blood and pump with passion
“viva la revolucion”
Rhythm and rhyme seize the moment
Heads and buttocks sway
Laughter is limitless in this haven
For known and unknown alike
The stars rise and the sun falls
the freedom to simply be lingers long after
waiting for another day
For another brilliant gather
Taruwa