Acts in Arts

By Obed Yadzo – Lilbed Wordweave

I have seen art walk barefoot through dust,

and still leave footprints that never fade.

It is not the paint, nor the drum,

but the pulse that shakes through them.

Our stories were never lost ,

they just learned to breathe through wood,

through bronze,

through the rhythm of the talking drum.

When I speak, I am not alone.

Voices older than soil

move through my throat,

carrying names the world forgot to write down.

Every dance,

every carving,

every line of song

is a door to before ,

where memory was alive,

not trapped in museums.

We are not copies.

We are continuations.

Acts in arts ,

where the spirit still performs itself.