He was not yet a
man, but no more a child,
He was now in
love, in the way of the wild,
Of nude golden
skin & a Bushman from birth,
Inheritor of sky
& brother of all on the earth.
A gourde of wild
honey scented with desert thyme,
A tooth of biggest
lion hunted in a very long time,
Bracelet of
tamboti seeds & fine ostrich shell rings,
All to give to his
new love, he´s hoping her heart sings.
Sister Moon lay
low, as he hid behind old baobab tree,
Tiny arrows of
love, quivered in hand, urging to be free,
Shot onto the
entrance mat of his loved one´s grass hut,
If she collects
them at dawn, there´ll be no if´s & but´s.
Beast´s night
eyes, crack of branch, all slinking & prowling,
Dawn arrives red
hot like the lion, soft stealthy & growling,
Moon nods, owl
hoots, the day with night now blending,
He sees his love
appear & to his arrows she´s now bending.
Clicking of tribal
awakening beats within his thudding chest,
Arrows accepted,
dancing in dust, stamping for her, his best,
Together in the
beat of the Kalahari, united in ancient blood,
As the heavens open
in thanks & prayers in rain clouds scud.
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