standing notably tall
above corrugated iron and tyres
the green head blows proud
in this place of shade where my
children swing safely in branches
to and fro, to and fro, to and fro
when hungry I reach for low hanging fruit
then climb branches for a view,
away from my flat life
to picnic with honest friends
allowing ants crawl over ankles
and bees balance on bottle rims
there I lean back on the trunk
to make myself feel young
against seed planted years ago
by missionaries who loved us
their roots far below
stuck down firm in
the mud of our lives
soaking up our spirit
into things earthy and eternal
here I taste the fruit of my ancestors
they who dug the hole
and danced with joy
that I may lie here and hear my children
sweetly swinging, sweetly swinging
* The mission brings health to a community once devastated by HIV/AIDS but now bearing stories of hope