Just a Tree(Mike Kaupembe) JUST A TREE

Many are they
that sit under my far-reaching bosom
I shelter them on hot sunny days
As birds of the air
Sing sweet melodies
Of the ancient worlds

They voice out their routine confessions and gloomy wishes
That seem to orignate
From the abyss of their broken hearts
Unaware of my eavesdropping

I have no single idea
Of what's really out there
Let alone a tip of understanding
of the gravity of their grievances

All I hear are mere stories
I am like a child locked up inside
Always blankly peeping through the windows of my leafless prongs
That once made a rich foliage

It remains my strongest desire
To get a glimmer of knowledge
Of a different narrative
From what I am made to believe

What's beyond this tranquil wilderness?
Is it really true that
Hundreds miles away
across the mighty river
a glorious city emerges?

A city adorned with imposingly technicolored sky scrapers
and magnificent streets made of gold
Where peace and true love
Morosely, are hard to find

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