Four hundred years old
They told:
The old Acacia tree.
Holding head high
In the arid wilderness
Of the desert.
Centuries came and went.
Its branches grew
And spread all over.
Across the desert floor. 1/n
They told:
The old Acacia tree.
Holding head high
In the arid wilderness
Of the desert.
Centuries came and went.
Its branches grew
And spread all over.
Across the desert floor. 1/n
Its no more just a tree.
But a community.
Of defiance.
Resilience.
Of weathering.
Standing tall.
Despite what goes on.
Around her.
Time’s slowed down
For the old Acacia. 2/n
But a community.
Of defiance.
Resilience.
Of weathering.
Standing tall.
Despite what goes on.
Around her.
Time’s slowed down
For the old Acacia. 2/n
Centuries ply by.
Like merely years.
The world changes.
But not the desert.
The Most Defiant One.
Old Acacia Tree of Life
#WorldPoetryDay #WorldPoetryDay2022
Like merely years.
The world changes.
But not the desert.
The Most Defiant One.
Old Acacia Tree of Life
#WorldPoetryDay #WorldPoetryDay2022
@threadreaderapp compile
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