A Kenyan Road.

I do not know the name of this child who is walking…
Down roads alone—darkness stalking…
In brightness of the day—the sun is clear this little child walks alone…does she fear?
Down the road alone daylight is stalking a dusty road alone is treading—walking.

Who shall walk with her when the winds of life blow?
When will the rough places pass plainly straight?
Will she escape life’s line of poverty’s (below) embrace?
Will she ever know life’s glare…or hate?

Who is she who walks down that Kenyan road so plainly trod
Down paths alone in dusty sod?...

O child of dust! Leave off your weeping, for there is nothing creeping ‘neath the underbrush to make your heart sore.
Remember your promise and keep your soul honest to prepare yourself for the love that you have in store. Remember the promise that you are keeping—for your living soul love is sweeping—the mud and life’s detritus by the dusty wayside shore.

O child of dust! Bathe yourself in light and come walking, down the road where sunlight is stalking, to lift you up in arms to protect you from dusty storms. Down that African road that child came a’ walkin’ where sunlight and yes- death may be stalking down a lonely Kenyan road where life…isn’t sure…