The Rasta Years

As the wind blows thru my dreadlocks

Caressing my Jamaican face

DÃ-jÃ-vu feelings take me back 

To a distant time and place

To a time of Rastafari

And Iya-binghi chants

A time of ital living

Before my heart transplant

Before I fled to Babylon

To chase an American dream

Before I lost my passion

My youth and self-esteem

Back then I was a warrior

Proud, fierce and strong

Relentless in my struggles

A righteous Rasta man

I remember Rasta brethren

Youth and elder dreads

And Rastafari sisters

In colorful tie-heads

Going to Rasta meetings

Dreads stuffed under tams

Rasta celebrations

JahLoveMuzik jams

Back then things were cheaper

But funds were always low

Still we dressed so regal

That you would never know

Yes those were the lean years

When I & I was poor

But idrin shared with idrin

And no one kept a score

Some would have a spliff to share

Some a chalice load

Some ital food or change to spare

Before man hit the road

Now those days are far long gone

And the ways we used to live

And a different struggle pushes me on

In a land that don't forgive

I struggle now with paying rent

A phone bill and car note

Winter's high utility rates

And wifey's new fur coat

Times and places all have changed

But memories still remain

Of Rasta vibes and Rasta lives

That I'll never see again

Yes, as a cool breeze filters through

My graying natty dread

I glimpse a life that I once knew

And a Rasta tear is shed

Bless!