Pan
god of the reeds by the river
god of all music, god of all sound
wind whistling through leaves
wind wailing casuarinas bending…
my mouth on a reed
torn from red banks
not really a river
my grandmother’s stream
she fetched water
washed clothes watered plants
me I gathered white petals
picked green reeds to whistle
my young lips through reed lips…
Pan
sweet sound sublime
round rubber touch metal
Despers! I heard them before
Yes! Carifesta Cuba. Havana
sweet music sublime
under Laventille sky
pouring that sound
on the Port of Spain night
watch the drill master
yes him there bracing the mango tree
head cocked ears keen
for that one note not perfect
but me I cant hear it…
I keep the perfect note
deep in my heart
all the way down hill
grateful I climbed that road
grateful I heard it
great god Pan
god of all music
god of all sound