Since I’d played here as a little lass, 

The rushes had grown tall, 

I peered through the striped green wall

and focused on my task.

I was there to find the basket, 

the basket that had been placed, 

oh so gently into the water,

into the hands of faith,

My brother was  hidden inside, 

a baby at the time

I must look for him on the water,

 even though I’m only nine. 

My eyes squinted and knees ducked, 

I fixated on the fast-flowing river, 

Could I see it? 

Would it flow downstream?

As nothing floated my way, 

My heart sank down to my toes. 

This was the end of my Mother’s dream.

Oh no. How could this be so?

My feet soggy from wet sand,

I decided to give up. 

The reeds brushed against my skin,

I was covered in muck. 

He was gone for good, see him again, I never would.

Something was tugging against my skirt, an annoying little twig. 

I unhooked the fabric and looked to the river again,  the Nile was just too big.

At that moment, an unbelievable sight, 

lifted up my spirits and brought joy back into my life.  

There was the basket! That precious cargo box.

It had survived the monstrous river,

the rocks, and the crocs. 

Gently it floated, warmed by the sun, 

Not a bump or knock had harmed that tiny little one. 

I blinked hard, as I couldn’t believe the truth, 

That my baby brother’s journey had been smooth.  

The beauty of Egypt called him her son. 

And little did I know, his story had only just begun.