The riverbed is empty
Land once cultivated to sustain
Children, elders, families
Wild and tamed life is barren

Replaced with cement, metal
Plastic, artificial air, space and time
Masses succumb in the man-u-factory jungle
As they wrestle in a sedated sleep

A clearing seen in a dream
Manifests in cement jungle jumpers
Awake and ready to play a tune
To a different drummer
The one who sows a seed
For all; not a select few

Loosening the soil, they plant their dreams
Old traditions nurtured with fertile beginnings
Flow upstream
Against the current noise of the day


Desta

“Writing is a potion of devotion, magical, mysterious and mighty” Desta

"Love is like the sea. It's a moving thing, but still and all, it takes its shape from the shore it meets, and it's different with every shore. ”
Zora Neale Hurston