Journey Into My Dreams (Paperback)

I dreamed of Africa. The dreams that invaded my sleep as a child were of a place I could go and the people; all of them looked like me and I looked like them. I wanted, somehow needed to, so I promised myself that, before I died, Iad squeeze the sands bathed from the heels of my motheras tired feet between my toes while her ancient tears rushed across my feet bringing a welcome cool with the flow of her tides. I dreamed that I would suckle the sacred milk of her bosom, if it were no more than a drop licked from the tip of her forefinger, and that I would walk with her and hold her hand and sit under her skies in the warmth of her embrace until I dozed off to sleep and into my dreams.