Discord in Africa

From the top of the hill I can feel
the wind blowing on my face
Ngokujabulisayo ukufaka Ngezinwele zami
(blissfuly toying with my hair)

watching the sun play games
on the backs of Hadedas
as they stalk the grasses
in search of voluptuous worms
on which to feast.

red-beaked beauties
sparkling blue and violet
in the late afternoon sun
I momentarily ponder their bliss.

What magic is there
in the casual stroll of a bird
in their lovely wings
fragile steel oars

steering them through
all of the storms of life.

In the distance I hear Isithuthuthu,
a motorbike roaring past the hill,
breaking the nonchalant feast
of my feathered friends.

Frantically they scurry into the air
cackling their disgust
at having been disturbed
in their afternoon gathering.

What magic is there
on that hilltop
with only the Hadedas
keeping me company.

With a sigh I too scurry off
back to my house in disgust
at having been denied
intimate whisperings

with my dear friends.