8-0-4-1

Eight thousand forty one miles

a car, a bus, a plane.

Off to Africa.

Two weeks here I remain.

Parents wave with fearful smiles.

Where am I? I feel so alone.

Dry Air. Cold Air. Fresh Air.

This is Africa.

On the street people stare.

For me, this is the great unknown.

Time to wake, with hardly any sleep.

We head to the village,

We're in Africa.

Hopeless souls let's pillage.

We're here to speak of love so deep.

Greeted with grins by some, not all. 

What now? I do not know.

Cryptic Africa

Into their schools we go.

There's many children, big and small.

It's 12 o'clock school is now out. 

Our soccer camp starts.

Fun in Africa.

There goes the ball, he darts

He shoots, he scores, and gives a shout.

It's getting dark, time for worship.

Let's sing, to Him we praise.

Night in Africa.

In awe, our hands we raise

With words of reverence from each lip.

Two weeks flew by, it's time to leave.

Tears flow as we drive off.

Goodbye Africa.

Choking on tears, "cough-cough".

I'll come back, you better believe.