PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Ewaso Nyiro river runs across Maasailand.  

Moving out of heaven and splitting the plains

Where custom is sweet and a pen is dead a sleep.

The river flows and flows unawares.

Entering the Lorrian Swamp, never to return.



Darkness falls and I am talking to the stars.

I stare and talk to the moon too.

To bring me the modern tools of trade

I watch at the long road of the river of flowers.

I ask myself what the tools can do.

My heart perambulates and I realize.

They are tools for a better tomorrow.