At The Indaba

On the low, parched

reaches of Africa

the high winds swelled,

kicked up thick clouds of ochre dust

and grew still.


And only when we

consented to be

no more or no less

than human,

they gathered again,

propelling us

to places our own strengths

could never go.


If only for a moment

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with that wind

pushing steadily

at our backs,

we understood

what results

when fear

is replaced







and altogether

shameless love.