Ode to the Red-Brown Ground

[Verse 1] Sun comes slow over Bamenda ridge Mist hangs low on the old footbridge Bare feet sink where my father stood Red-brown ground Giving what it could I taste rain in the air Thick and sweet Turn the clay with my hands Not my feet Every stone Every root I find Hides a story that’s older than mine [Chorus] Ode to the soil that stains my hands Keeps my children Feeds this land From the seed to the steaming cup we pour I sing for the earth I’m kneeling for Ode to the soil My quiet friend From first small leaf to the harvest end [Verse 2] Tiny seeds like secrets in my palm Lay them down Cover them with calm Watch the worms write maps in the dark Little tunnels of faith and of heart Dry years come And the rivers fall thin Still this hillside holds my kin When the beans turn red on the row It’s the soil that taught them to grow [Chorus] Ode to the soil that stains my hands Keeps my children Feeds this land From the seed to the steaming cup we pour I sing for the earth I’m kneeling for Ode to the soil My quiet friend From first small leaf to the harvest end [Bridge] I don’t own this land (oh no) I just walk its span Then go Guard the ground Let the roots run free So my grandchild’s hands feel what it gave to me [Chorus] Ode to the soil that stains my hands Keeps my children Feeds this land From the seed to the steaming cup we pour I sing for the earth I’m kneeling for Ode to the soil My quiet friend From first small leaf to the harvest end