Walk with me to the Bantaba with the canopy from the rising sun we will sit under the shade of the baobab tree the tree of life the tree of sustenance and we will think of all the things past and present of all the things that are born and die.
We will look deep inside ourselves we will look around and between ourselves and feel the moment and feel the awe of what is and what could have been the inter space between now and death.
To you with the mighty army thousands of people under your command your tentacles of terror spread and fear grips the heart send chills down the spine your master trembles at your feet at the mercy of your wicked machinations.
You hold their whimpering voices hostage prisoners of conscience harbingers of the season of atonement as a cherubim with the wings of peace but you have them mercilessly slaughtered at the altar of your might and arrogance.
But tomorrow comes she walks slowly in her stride she carries in her womb the seeds of discontent the agony and cries of helplessness today.
She makes a push an involuntary spasm like an innocent child that is born she renders her judgment to the world.
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Posted - 26 Oct 2011 : 01:51:24
