Invocation Poem by Bamishaye David

Let this rain cleanse her wretched past,
Like Naaman in the Jordan's tide.
Let this pen staunch the bleeding wounds
Of centuries lost, and nail her sins to the cross.

Let all who despise this land perish,
Like Pharaoh's army in the Red Sea.
May those who lead us into endless night
Not escape the wrath of dusk.
But let those who love this land rise great.

The tree does not mourn the birds' swift flight,
Nor does the land regurgitate its trees.
Let there be peace in the North and East.
The wind's fury does not blind the clouds
When the sun ascends—
The earth awakens, radiant with bloom.
Let there be joy in the West and South.

The sea does not scorn
The gleaming eyes of the fish.
Let the prodigal sons and daughters return.
Let fractured hopes
And broken dreams be restored