Baobab by Angela K Robinson
Leaning against balancing rocks,
sitting high on a kopje site, I looked
across the rolling hills and down to the
savannah plain. An ancient land of
ancient kings, a country and world apart.
The long grass shimmered in the afternoon
sun, ghostly warriors appeared jogging past
in time to the beat of the drum.
Voices calling, softly humming an ancient warrior
song - ‘Who is this who dares to sit in our Council?,
the spirit of keepers chant.
This wild and achingly beautiful land, rich in gold
and precious gems, sits serenely in the vast wilderness,
blessed with teaming wild life.
Among the walls of granite rock with deep
unfathomable caves, age old secrets hidden there the
guardians jealously keep. I knew that here a great
destiny lay, the destiny of a once great nation.
Far out across the noon day sky an African
eagle flew, it circled high then swooped down low
to crouch on a branch near by. He looked at me with
piercing stare as if to examine my soul and say -
‘Can your eyes observe through time and space,
to when the ancients ruled, where they go
or where they stay?’ Just as suddenly as the eagle
came, he spread his powerful wings, up to the
mountain side he flew, onwards and over the ridge.
The crimson sunset rapidly brought
a breathless beauty to my beating heart.
Riding westward on her fiery stead, the great golden
ball fled, and in its wake ignited the sky
with a panorama of fire.There, up on a hillside in a little clearing,
besides a group of graceful wild plants,
towering high over all in the waning daylight,
stood the great and ancient giant.
It’s burly trunk and huge long arms reached out
with strength to capture my heart and encourage me.
I stood for a while on that rocky ledge to witness this
amazing scene, and knowingly smiled with happiness,
as my roots run deep through the baobab tree.