Part I in a series under development:

To Harvest the Wind: School Daze
by Michael Romani

I.

A breeze touches the savanna grass
As the tribesmen dance in a pass
Harvesting corn; some barely living
This harsh life can be unforgiving

God's decision made by His choice
And the village loses another voice
Bittersweet-ness of fruit as grown
The kindness of God as brutally known

Kuefesa is the time and place of sowing
The planting of seeds in the knowing
In the morn, a newborn babe wakes and cries
As a father's eyes searches in the skies

It's a good enough sort of a morning
Felt with its own peculiar half-mourning
Drinking life's water from the village well
This then is the beginning of the tale

New school clothes wait on the bed
To help fill the knowing in his head
A moment's prayer is quietly spoken
Then off to school with dreams awoken

Education is it own engraved legacy
To take steps toward peace and democracy
For a people who have only known poverty
This then, bit by bit, would be their legacy

God's rain comes down and with learning
The headmaster hopes to stoke the fires burning
But to truly heed his truest best advice
All of this comes with it's own hard price

Every day will find it's own unique struggle
As the people lose first tobacco and then jungle
The government knows best only how to take and take
Offering minimal opportunity, it claims high stakes

(c) March 2, 2019   Michael Romani
All Rights Reserved