Hues of gold hug the horizon,
The air is heavy with the scent of a rainy day,
A pride of lions moves its limbs with a motion of might,
A motion of magic precedes the pack.

A dragonfly bounces along the river of relief,
The sun sets its final shimmer of sophistication
Behind the silhouette of a striking baobab.

A pocket of air holds the wings of the stork in a mathematical manner,
as it sweeps over of the plateau of promise.

South Africa,
A nation in progress,
Where each combination of skin tones each have a story to tell of its own,
a story of history,
a story of might.

Long live the pride of lions,
the Giants of our Rainbow Nation who sow seeds of sunshine in every corner of the soil.
Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika.

Today I ran through the archives of the extensive library of memory,
in there I found various books with titles I have been longing to read;

"Days of shimmering sunshine,"
"Friendships forged for life,"
"The purple Barney I played with,"
"The best"
and "The worst."

I browsed through myriads of red and navy blue leatherbacks,
only to realize I found myself.

I found that it contained my dreams,
my fears,
my hopes
and even the reason for the selection of my favorite chocolate.

Memory reminds us of our essence.
The essence that brings tranquility to our souls on a chaotic day,
an essence that reminds us of our path that brought us to the destination of today.

Visit the library of memory often,
and remember to take a cup of steaming tea.

our bodies are paint
with every motion of your body do you set a paint-stroke
upon the canvas of life.

How strange is the relationship between man and nature?

When man finds himself amongst the turbulence and chaos of life,
he motions towards the calmness of the river.

When the river expresses its rage with its might,
the careful traveller attempts to trek lightly upon its courses.

Nature is in itself in synchronicity with life.

a touch of purple paints itself into the monochrome,
a ray of hope,
a sense of sanity,
a soft palm runs through the lilac labyrinth,
a horse on the horizon,
in my hand,
a hot-cross bun.

The orange and pink congregate with graceful gestures;

their veins are embossed along the surface of the double-ended raindrop figure;

they are ornaments of the sky.

Their homes welcome those who sit beneath it in the morning light;

with serenity;

and are happy bearers of a tiny breeze.

I am in awe of the Autumn leaves, little ornaments decorated against the baby blue sky.

A society lacking observation,
concentration,
too much confrontation,
temptation;
not enough collaboration,
reformation,
realization.

in the concave of a raindrop sits a hue of hope,
a rain to bring forth a harvest,
water to restore the greenery of this mountain.

Revitalise.

Revive.

Renew.

Inside my soul sits a hue of hope.