My ears have a story to tell
They have heard and fed from the well of words
My eyes have sucked in the smoke of images
And overwhelmed by the multitude it consumes.
I rise to the sound of blasting radios across the compound
Singing out loud the melodies taught by the last sunset
And humming the tunes of the new moon
The doings of the Whisperers of Life.

As the sun crawls along the skies, so shall they rise to their call
Digging out the stories untold like the sacred duty of the early hen in a muddy haven.
They lead the fight to scavenge for answers;
Answers to the questions plaguing our innocent minds
Answers to riddles only the “fairest” know.
Whispering them into the laid down ears
As we ready our spears to pierce our fears.
The doings of the Whisperer.

Come and carry my musings away
Whisper to the lawmakers, my heart bleeds from injustice
Tell the church; my soul is worth saving
Tell the rich; my sweat overflows in their pockets.
Sing to the protectors; my breath is being looted
Whisper to the unborn; I dream of a better world for them.
Oh whisperers of life, the mouth of the unsung
I beseech you.

Nana Bayin Asaam is a poet, blogger and a social media manager from Cape Coast, Ghana Twitter – @mc_haymaker