The morning brings
A tide of change.
The air,
Fresh, like a lemon sorbet.
The morning brings,
A break in silence.
Sudden,
Peaceful,
Inviting.
The morning brings,
A tidal wave.
Invading,
Premonitory,
Cleansing.
What is Life?
But a game
Of multiple choices.
The needle
That feeds a thread
Of daily routine
Into our lifelong tapestry.
A constant roll of dice,
Punctuating
Each and every turn
Of our emotional crossroads.
What is Life?
But a most varied
Type of a journey.
A constant flow
Of cul-de-sacs,
Traffic jams and,
At times,
Smooth highways.
What is Life?
One wonders...
The sands of Kuruman
Take shelter
On my shoulders.
Invasive,
Under the burning sun.
Palm trees
Are this city’s
Skyscrapers.
Rising,
Swiftly,
As they caress
The golden sun.
Down in alleys
Or in lonely graveyards,
Towering,
Above the city,
As they sweat their beings
With pride.
