Winds of Africa

Author:

Marden P.



Date of Trip:

September 2010

The endless winds of Africa call out to me

Across savanna, mountain, river and sea

Like foreign voices in an unknown tongue

Messages borne in the songs they've sung

Whispering to something buried deep inside

Primitive memories that in my heart reside

The spirit winds of the ancient Tsidillo Hills

Carry thru the centuries both warmth and chills

The ghostly images of those who left their art

On the stones unspoken messages to impart

As I ponder there their drawings I wonder

What messages they heard in wind and thunder

Across the Okavango Delta the breezes carry

The fragile scent of water lilies and then tarry

To whisper a tale of the waters long journey

From Angola's mountains to this papyrus sea

Bringing life to the desert and a vision to me

Before sinking into the sands of the Kalahari

The Ngorongoro Crater breathes in and breathes out

Morning winds pour in and evening winds float out

And between Nature seems to hold her breath to see

What man will do with her timeless gift, given free,

A paradise enclosed by volcanic caldera walls

Where flora and fauna Eden's garden recalls

Selous breezes blowing giraffe, like spotted leaves, across the plain

Tsavo gusts lifting vultures high sky-high in their search for the slain

Morning gales turning the Zambezi River into an endless washboard

Mara winds blowing long strings of wildebeest toward their river ford

Fish eagles floating as though on a magic carpet over Lake Baringo

Patiently waiting to snatch up the fish the guides sometimes throw

A ruffled ball of feathers perches back to the wind

Not flying while the air is filled with dust and sand

The elephants are red with trunk blown dust

Covering their iron-gray skin like splotchy rust

Gazelle and impala sniff the air, alert and wary,

For the scent of any predators the breezes carry

Sounds borne on the owl-quiet wings of the night air

The roar of the male lion newly roused from his lair

The leopards rough cough as he glides through the dark

Hyenas hunting calls, more chilling laughter than bark

Grunts of the feeding hippo and calls of a night bird

A few, among many, of the dark sounds I've heard

The never-ceasing, ever twirling, devil winds of the Amboseli

And the hot endless sere winds of the desert called Kalahari

Dry out the bush and trees, burn the grass and sear the skin

Turn waterholes to mud, but cleanse the soul and usher in

With the suffering, anticipation of rebirth and blessed relief

That is more than just hope a deep-rooted soul-lifting belief

The rain laden winds of the Serengeti

Turn dust into grass and hunger to plenty

They call out to wildebeest and zebra

Beckoning them to cross the river Mara

Urging them on thru the cycle of life

While calling to me like bugle and fife

The winds of Africa cry out to me of all mankind

Of poverty and sickness and cruelty out of mind

Children without shoes, let alone schools, too little food,

Unclean water to drink, many wrongs on which to brood

And yet the wind whispers of pride, of joy and of hope,

The determination of tribes to love, to live and to cope

Just as the dry season wind brings the smell of smoke and death

The wind of the rains brings new growth and the hope of rebirth

The ancient winds that blow across man's ancestral home

Carry portents for the future and, as the words of a poem,

Whispers of hope, pledges of progress and shouts of commitment

And I rejoice in the messages the Winds of Africa have sent.