a man- of soaring eloquence;
in whom the pulse to life
throbs, near to surface,
fascinating, ensnaring, empowering-
any, all that dare near
the sun to fly, never untouched.
the audacity of hope-
Hope, that the sun will rise,
though darkness threatens-
the moon her brilliance touch
to full, the skies to clear,
a man, woman to know God-
in depths of despair, the world
to change, retouch, renew;
not a lifeless bauble-
a living, life giving mother to us.
the audacity of hope, giving hope-
not a Ceasar to rule, I pray
(human is fallible)
but a man, who dares to hope and
this world reach, turn to stare
and, dare to hope...
the audacity of hope, rising
in our breasts, my breast, yours-
in Africa, America, Europe;
hope soaring in Asia, Australia
-the audacity of hope.
Dare to dream, a man that
dares all to dream, to hope
the Audacity of hope.
Funny. I have never read the book.
I am an African. He is American.
I do not like stereotypes, shortcuts to thinking. But I recognise the overwhelming feel of good that seems to float from him. Not because I can try to claim him an African. Fie on that.
Because as a human being, he is a charismatic one who is holding the hope of using that power to sway for good.
The poem lacks a lot. True.
Yet, as flawed as it is, I think it tells something of what I felt yesterday, thinking of his suprising win.