The dyke of hills is pierced to forge a way

To sink a shaft to mine the gleaming chrome

That lies embedded in creation's groan

Now silent since that all transforming day,

And speechless with the wanderer's own dismay

That comes from straying from the norms of home

Discovered in these ancient halls of stone

Which calm the mind as exiles start to pray.

 

The darkness tunnels into deep descent

Enticing paths the elders would pursue

Deep into Hades and the infernal fires.

Instead we glimpse a solar gleam that's bent

To light the sleeping pool with azure hue

And give the vivid picture which inspires.

 

Zimbabwe

August 2004