A paradise lost

A paradise lost

He sat on the overturned rock

Alone but not lonely

longing for the past

Longing for what's lost

For he can't keep pace with the present

His old heart yearning for the days

When the valley below was lively

Missing the singing and whistling

As  men and boys herded their flocks

He longed for the times 

When friendships were true

When handshakes were warm

And sharing was the norm

The streams are now dry

All trees and bushes cleared

In their place a concrete jungle

The singing replaced by deafening noises

No more streams 

Where clear waters flowed

Only streets flowing

 With motorists and pedestrians

A high population of lonely humans

Always hurrying to destinations unknown

Some living for the next meal

Others for the next deal

All busy making a living

As life passes by

  

           © Felister Mboya