A Psalm of the Hill

For the Director of Life and Living. A psalm of reflection

They rise early in the morning,
The cattle; the field are calling,
Food, fees, all those needs
From these hills they farming

I am the hill they adorn
With hopes and dreams and more
They found me here
And they call me theirs
Pass me down as inheritance
Yet, I am still,
A Hill.

They rise early in the morning
Their tools, of work are calling
Metals, minerals and gases
From these hills digging

I am the hill they adorn
With hopes and dreams and more
They found me here
And they call me theirs
Pass me down as inheritance
Yet, I am still.
A hill

They stay late into the night,
Dispute my use the right,
Pen and sword, death and much more
Making mighty and also poor

I am the hill they adorn
With hopes and dreams and more
They found me here
And they call me theirs
Pass me down as inheritance
Yet, I am still.
A hill

I was here before
I will be here thereafter
All these things mean nothing to me
I am just a hill

 

First published on the Storymoja Festival Blog here

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