The Pathway

Maybe I am lost, lost in the quiet Plantain forest
Following a trail of leaves, to a place where I know not

Maybe I am found, searching for my way to the top

Walking hopefully to a place where better tree ropes drop


Maybe the path led to the dreaded Crocodile river

Or to the farms that yield the guinea corn and cassava

But I see the birds twitter over my head, plummages of green 

And I watch the monkeys dance, holding their babies as they grin


But to me I am walking, moving to a direction I know not

Brave, the tree leaves fall, in my strong faith I firmly trust

I dream of the land where the winds turn to perfect gold

Of me when I shall again return to my land, strong and bold

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