Big, wide and tall, overpowering, mighty and plenty. The baobab trees lined up at the sides of the path to the river in my village, on the left and the right. So many myths surrounding its existence. I have heard it is the home to the unearthly, some have whispered it is the great men of yester years, towering over the village to keep it safe.

I have seen these trees for many years, heard so much more of these stories for several more. The baobab trees of which its leaves, seeds and fruits are food. The baobab tree I love, love to count as i carry my basin filled with water from the stream.

I often wondered, dear Baobab, if i pluck your flowers will i be torn by lions?; if I drink your water, will I truly be mighty?

Were you truly given to the Hyena, who threw you away in disgust? Is that why you look as though upside down?

Dear Baobab, the provider, Dear Baobab the listening tree, stay up strong, stay up healthy, your rings invisible, your years uncountable and your end explosive!

**Explosive used because the Baobab tree is said to catch fire spontaneously when it dies*

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