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Timbuktu
Timbuktu
Across Africa there is a legend of a city,
a domain built from gold and salt and books
where the camel meets the canoe at the river bend.
From the sea, From the earth, from the divine.
comes the salt, comes the gold, comes the new life.
From the sea across the searing Sahara toward
Timbuktu comes a dribbled line of camels
carrying bricked up salt, life giving salt,
keeping water in the body amid the arid
planes where the camels connect with the canoes.
Poled up the Niger River in a canoe comes
the wise and generous Muslim king with a vision:
that gold is equal to life with divine knowledge.
So the gold meets the salt at the belly-button
of Africa, the world, the moon, the universe.
Ounce for ounce, gold is traded for salt:
Gold is salt, and salt is gold. Ounce for ounce
A wealthy city is born at the dry African naval.
There gold and salt are turned into wisdom;
A university is built; a library fills with books.
Twenty five thousand students lost in dreams:
Words as gold, gold as words, salt as words
words as salt, Divine wisdom is traded for life.
The old woman's belly-button in the desert
flourishes into a city of prosperity and wealth.
In this desert center treasuries grow and yield
more than ever dreamed by that generous king.
Then comes greed from Northern Africa
where Morocco's selfish king wants gold to
build his own lavish city of wealth and wonder.
So the golden city in the middle of the Sahara
is sacked for the making of Morocco's gold coins;
Timbuktu's library becomes buried in the desert
sands to remain safe for its lost people while
all its treasuries are carried off across the dunes.
This gold transformed to salt.
This salt transformed to word.
This word transformed to knowledge.
This knowledge transformed to prosperity.
This prosperity transformed to greed.
This greed transformed to buried books.
These buried books transformed to grit
where this library lies buried today in the sand.
These people transformed into buried books.
Buried books transformed into unread heritage.
Heritage transformed into words lost in darkness.
Words in darkness transformed to unseen wisdom:
This wisdom transformed into the desolate desert.
This desert transformed into a tomb for the city's heart:
Timbuktu, at the crossroads: the lady with the big naval
© RH Peat 7/3/09 12:30am
form: 10 cinquains: 50 lines/ A History poem.
I'm open to any suggestions.
Last edited by RHPeat 07-03-2009 at 09:54:12 AM
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