Mild was that seed that rooted into a rich soil
Rain and sun mixed for seed to become tree
Branches grew green and fruit wasn’t to spoil
Environment for ages was there just to see
Mature fruit fell off to give younger plantlets
Sprouts lived cold and heat to attract enemies
Harvest matured for man to hook in triplets
Innocent tree just watched for centuries
Tree watched and bore wounds to become cicatrices
Children, animals and birds envied the bearings of tree
Soil, tree, garden and forest hurt they were to matrixes
Powerless for change, they watched for lack of fee
Poem by Mugisho N Theophile
Giant Mesa’s have gray,
Elephant- footed talus slopes.
That seem to be padding toward
The highway.
Tumbleweeds play along their toes
And one, bullied by the wind,
Flies like a hawk to land
Where tumbleweeds never see!
This one lands akimbo on the
Never-ending electrical wires,
It’s belly blazing in the sun
Noticing a view from above
Seeing anew the world that it loves!
This tumbleweed waits in wonder
For another blast to set it free
All the while, the others
are keeping watch beneath.
The winds of change blow
and the tumbleweed
risks the jump, files through the air
and lands with a skip and a bump.
Her fellow plantlets give her a wild name
Happily she rolls along showing them a game.
New paths, seen from above
New paths to new places
New paths for races
The game of life goes on
By Lydia Grace Brescia March 29, 2011
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