TURNING TO KILIMANJARO

I know of mountains
I know of ancestral mountains older than the world
Older still than the constant journey of the sun
Through the spheres of our sphere: our world

My woes, my peoples’ woes, have grown
My peoples’ woes have grown tall like the mountains

I climbed Afadjato, when my dawns were toddling
I mounted a tent near Kilimanjaro at the wake
Of the realities of our world.
I searched Kenya and its winds gave me relief
In the midst of scorching suns
I stood on the peak of the Atlas and overhear the secrets
Behind the over-comers of woes
I am climbing the Everest and hearing the melodies
Emanating from its pinnacle when the heat
Of day is conflagrating and consuming
Dreams, dreams of my people,
 But I see its deep valleys behind the steep slops
Emanating tranquility of fulfilled-dreams,
Where few of my people dwell;

I have known mountains:
Old ancestral mountains
My dreams: fortified by the mountains.