I Am An African

    Island of Africa

    2014

    Memories of Gondwana fade
    The ancient world torn apart:
    As rock plates and craters
    Start shifting; slow-drifting –
    And outcasts and misfits
    Roll Darwin’s loaded dice

    Mysteries wait in forest mazes
    Riddles lurk in muddled minds:
    As creatures and questions
    Hang suspended; half-blended –
    And sky-roots and theories
    Sprout upended; distended

    Morning wails with jungle mails
    Passed along with echoed songs:
    As lemurs and pilgrims
    Pay homage; seek forage –
    And creepies and crawlies
    Wait under wraps; bait traps

    Feathered skies grace weathered eyes
    Ragged roads bear jagged loads:
    As farmers and traders
    Nurture shoots; count loots –
    And children and chickens
    Peck, strut and stray; role-play

    Islands calm with ylang-ylang balm
    Beaches lure with palm-tree cure:
    As vampires and tourists
    Suck sleepers; play peepers –
    And fishers and wishers
    Net dinner; get thinner

    Insects tease upon amber seas
    Rivers snake into muddy lakes:
    As cloud-dew and prayers
    Flood green fields; bear yields –
    And erosion and corruption
    Bleed red sands; stain hands

    Visions of Madagascar shine
    The light of hopes refracted:
    As habits and habitats
    Start changing; rearranging –
    And guardians and dreamers
    Gaze into Attenborough’s crystal ball

    — Wayne Visser