I walk through the road of centinal
Palm trees giving shade from the kindle
Of the noon sun, creating shade where only sun lit.
I look upon their majestic trunks
As elegant as a giraffe’s
Reaching into the sky, touching the heavens.
Once you reach the road’s end,
The vista of greens will land
You in a mirage of breathtaking scenes.
A short walk and you’ll reach
Boti Falls, distinguished with two chutes that leach
Into a large aquamarine pond that sizzles
With the force of the downpour,
And hides a cavern behind its ominous core,
That provides electricity and life to all nature.
Moving past such wonder,
You see man’s touch in greater
Spans of space, where a decrepit helicopter
Lies as stage for tourists and the picnickers
To look upon an antique object of wars,
Used to help beautify what’s already astounding.
I watch the centinals in my rearview mirror,
Wondering at my next visit to such a conqueror
Of beauty and memories of times yonder.
Poetry for Change 