Oh, island in the sun
Willed to me by my father's hand
All my days I will sing in praise
Of your forest, waters, your shining sand
From: Island In The Sun Words & Music : Harry Belafonte & Lord Burgess
The springtime’s come, my hammock up, the warm sun on my face,
I stretch my weary body out, to seek my innerspace.
And as the warm breeze sooths my soul, my mind drifts far away,
To distant place where I was born, to Paradiso Bay.
The warm and glist’ning snow white sand that’s squeezed between my toes,
The fragrant Bougainvillea whose aroma fills my nose.
I taste the milk of coconuts, papayas, passion fruit,
And feast on newly roasted fish and fresh cassava root.
With belly full and satisfied, I rest beneath the palms,
The breeze that murmurs through the fronds is whispering a psalm
The words of which I’ve memorized, the sacred sounds of life,
That oft have soothed my troubled heart when overwhelmed by strife.
The shimm’ring water, turmoil free, protected by the reef
Beckons to my wearied soul, "Come in and find relief."
The rock of wonder fills my eyes, how long since I’ve been there?
Warm mem’ries of my youth o’erwhelm and catch me unaware.
Unable to resist the call, there’s soon a salty taste
As aching muscles, long unused, stroke t’ward that distant place.
The swimming and the water’s feel bring back a life long gone,
As water, wind, and island birds sing out an antiphon.
The shore draws near and then at last, I’m standing in the sun,
My back to where I just came from , my future just begun.
For this is where it all began, what no one really knows,
Because ‘twas on this giant rock I saw the tropical rose.
Exhausted by the half-mile swim, my muscles strained and sore,
And yet invigorated, knowing that I must explore.
I press through all the undergrowth and climb the craggy slope,
For e’en at only eight years old my heart was filled with hope.
Overwhelmed by breathlessness, I’m high as I can go,
And right before my sweat-burned eyes I sense a rad’ent glow.
The brilliant pink that’s rustling in the gentle south sea breeze
Enchants me with it’s loveliness and drops me to my knees.
I’m reaching out to pluck it loose but something stays my hand.
The flower seems to smile at me, to help me understand
That precious beauty and its life is not for us to take.
It’s there to share with everyone and lives for its own sake.
In awe, I sit for hours there, until the light grows dim.
Reluctantly then down the slope, I face the half-mile swim.
I stroke across the channel’s breadth, lit softly by the moon,
With satisfying feelings that my life is now attunded.
The island quickly disappears, the beach and palm trees too,
And as I crack a sleepy eye, a dream comes into view.
Her voice is soft and filled with love, for she most surely knows
That she’s the flower that I sought, my island tropical rose.
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Jeannie
