Mango juice and Sunset hues

Take me back to the days of a Ghanaian sunset. When hope dwelled above the waters of despair And I gazed into the eyes of a sinking soul. Where trust and fear were honest and pure -- Felt in the mountains, cities and fishing boats alike. I want the hot air, the mango juice dripping down my hand, the dirt kicked up around my shoes, the roosters in the streets, the taxi cab dodgeball games, the eggshell passenger rides, and the shy children singing across from me on the shore. Because I want it all back. It's the feeling I had when I was there in a wide space so open -- it is a feeling I call free.