Walk with me to the Bantaba
and 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 our death.

  To you
  with the mighty army
  and thousands of people under your command
  your tentacles of terror spread
  and fear grips the heart
  and send chills down the spine
  your master trembles at your feet
  be at the mercy of your wicked machinations.

  You hold their whimpering voices hostage
  prisoners of conscience
  harbingers of the season of atonement
  they come as a cherubim with the wings of peace
  but you mercilessly have  them 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
  and she makes a push; an involuntary spasm
  and like an innocent child that is born
  she renders her judgment to the  world.

     Rene



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