BARA...BBAS!

 I met the man…I met the man!

No not the Man…I mean the man…

From Pilate’s court with joy he ran

‘I’m free again!’  the words he chimed

The market square, he stood to dance

Condemned to death, today he sang

“I don’t believe what He the Man…”

“had told the world ‘bout He’s the One…”

“But  all I knew, my death at hand”

“For me to be then He was hung”

He sung, he sung, a treacherous man

Who’s place He took, the only Son

His legs, His hands, the nails were rammed

His blood He shed though all He’d done

Was love beyond what we could stand

I met the man…I met the man!

And now you read and dare demand

“Who is the man you seem to shun?”

The man I met was me undone

Today I’m done

To Him I thank

©Prince Ampofo | www.palministry.org

NECESSARY BEAUTY

If the African continent alone has over 2000 different languages,
then I am confident every sound that ever came out of your mouth since your birth, has meaning;

Cough and it may be the surname of a Zimbabwean woman of Afrikaner origin.
Yawn and you may be calling the name of a 1937 Sino-Japanese War commander.

As funny as it may seem, the sound of your laughter alone may equate that of an undiscovered Amazonian tribe mourning the death of a draughtsman.

Nature is empty without diversity.
Humanity is oneness in difference and difference is a necessary beauty.