A boy pushes a water can cart to the local well,
his cell phone in hand.
I am that boy.
A younger boy wears a dusty torn shirt
and a full moon smile.
I am that boy also.
Grandmother takes my hand
during the welcoming ritual dancing/singing
and we move in rhythm.
I found my soul in Tanzania,
expressed through the warmth and strength of her people.
My prayer is that they recognized something of themselves in me.