The Mission

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