Archive for December 20, 2016


hand in hand 

​’take my hand’, she said, as we walked on splintered glass,


‘we are together, braced for all that may come to pass’,


we walk hand in hand today too,


traversing this world, that is often cold and untrue 

Soaking,

the rains settle,
meandering over jagged faultlines of our memory.

Drenching,

the rains settle,
streaming through veins,

the thud-thudding of the heartbeat of Africa.

Absorbing,

the rains that settle,
within each of us,

herald rebirth.

And,
if you listen,

if you strain to hear,

while shedding the raucous noise of your inner turmoil.

If you listen,

the whispers of the ancestors,

speak to us all,
lending us warmth,
urging us to stand,

even though we may
stumble,

even though we may fall.

barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

with the breath of the ocean a caressing balm,
soothing pained memories away,

to the swaying of a solitary palm.

barefoot on a talcum beach,
alone, not lonely,

feeling the brushing away of all past turmoil,

on a quest for solace, ever so hard to find,

yet comforted by the crashing of the waves,

as the tide cleanses all pain,

and leaves despair far, far behind.

barefoot on a talcum beach,
alone, not lonely,

drenched in a sea-breeze of mist,

that hushes the ache of bygone moons,

tasting the salty tang on my lips,

as the burnished sun,
over the distant horizon,
swoons,

and dips.

barefoot on a talcum beach,
alone, not lonely,

searching, ever searching,

for a slice of solitude,

as memory bids a final adieu,

reaching under the sea so vast,

and seeking comfort in the depths,

while embracing,

the tomorrows to come,
wishing that they be true.

barefoot on a talcum beach,
alone, not lonely,

seeing my truths drown,

as they slip beneath the turquoise waters,

feeling my heart ablaze,

with a passion that rarely falters.

barefoot on a talcum beach,
alone, not lonely,

yet knowing that I am home at long last,

wishing the waves would wash away,

the defences that once stood,

like an impregnable wall.

barefoot on a talcum beach,
alone, not lonely,

I have found,
at long last,

my final port of call

she comes to me, in moments desolate, the warmth of her balm a soothing pleasure under the swaying palm,


she comes to me in moments painful, her presence infusing my emptiness with sense,


she comes to me in minutes, hours, days,


and though she may be a million miles away,


it is her who quells my nights, it is her who brings solace to my waking day … … …

%d bloggers like this: