All my life I have been here,
With an Acacia tree always near.
I have seen many of your red sunsets
And cirrus clouds like an aerial net.
You are so vast, yet connected.
By God you were selected.
From savannah plains to thickets and forest.
With all this beauty how do you stay so modest?
I see you as spoor on loose sand,
Where have you been, where do you now stand?
One thing is for sure, here I was born free.
I’ll follow your track through the thorn trees.
Much blood you have seen through the ages.
Borders and farms devided you into cages.
Animals no longer roam from north to south,
Only birds are free from the devouring mouth.
Luckily you stretch far and wide,
So when life gives us a stressful ride,
You will always have a place of retreat,
Where African drums of the bush will beat.
All the ages you have been there,
With bushmen paintings in the air.
Many sunrises I still want to see.
Through the silhouette of an Acacia tree.