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 From the eastern horizon
It travels all season
Piping through the skyline
Like a piece of golden dime
As the day gets older
It grows bolder
Splashing it’s way
Across the ragged landscape
Activating all flora and fauna
Radiating it’s heat
Sometimes caressing
Other times scorching
I can hear the tom-tom drum
The piercing shrill of the oja flute
The droning hum of the ikoro
The melodious strum of the kora strings
Heralding this new dawn
Of a sun-splashed Africa
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