What We Talk About When We Talk About Dzidzor (Happiness)

Stephanie Sika, Reporter

My feet connect to the land
As if they never left
The first breath I take is accompanied
With welcoming, and awakening
I sense the immense pressure of air
Caressing my body
Mixtures of heat and humidity
Allow my skin to glisten
Immediately my attention becomes drawn to
The sounds of palm trees swaying with the breeze
This breeze moves with you just enough to tempt
You with an invitation to be free
As free as the children running around
With bare feet
It sends the aromas of light soup
From the local chop bar down the street
It drives me towards the sound of music
With the source not yet known
At night the breeze calms and brushes
Against my midnight blue skin
And drives me towards new found friends
And kele-wele sellers
The breeze calms to a silence just enough
For me to hear family and friends describe
Where the breeze has taken them
After laughing into the night I awaken with
The same pressure against my skin, blinded only slightly by
The sun, with my feet connected to the land,
Wondering where the breeze will take me again