(For our late Father Madiba)
They stand by in watch young and gullible; old and frail,
Their hearts fragile as they battle despair; stealing their eyes upon a fortress, adrift the swelling seas fancy as a ship of the dark cold night,
Straining starry eyed through the window of hopeful stars, as the north consorts the east, west and south,
The mural of mystery greets them, Day in day out, holding back the lay of a golden goose that mended broken wounds and send a thousand smiles,
It's war we are told; a war of emotions in our orbit The world is in chaos, As the king of the ring boxes here and there leaving a parting shot of tell tales,
And like a mirage exploding in fluorescent gleams,
The passing ship sweeps across the angry storms, ashore the rippling waves
As the Captain hold hands with his Goddess, dancing away in a chorus song, weaving duel to a tango of life;
When the bell resounds through the cracks of the desolate Robben Island; and the tremors can be heard upon skyward range; The Captain charms the maritime, escapes the mortal jails amidst soul mates On the foot of the shore when the surf breaks,
He anchors refuge and leaves us the taste of spiritual freedom,
As glowing as a stash of sacred coins, he laid as the Goddess tuck him in and hands that clasped his soul caress the unseeing eyes for a graceful journey
In the backyard the chants of the intombis howl the silent rains, the tapering drizzles scold the chieftaincy to claim the crown and unleash the soul of an heir, In awe the herd awaits, As the warriors yields sticks and guards endlessly behind shields,
The green grass give way to their mocking feet,
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As they charge with pride and retreat to the wisdom of change
Converted sons and daughters, now the driver of the advent of hope, thirstily bide time for their turn to catch the baton, they wear their beads; bangles and pearls with pride for they know the craft of this calling,
For the gospel is loud and crystal clear
Boitumelo "Tutu" Thamae
07/12/2013
