Friday, 11 July 2014

Satao - RIP 30 May 2014

Pic:  Tsavo Trust

© 2017

A hush has descended over the savannah
    Satao has fallen,
        He is no more,
and the wild birds’ song
     as they flip flap along,
          mourning Him,
but He can’t hear their call

He died by a poisoned arrow
    hissing through the crisp winter air
and He crashed to his knees,
    amidst the sorrowful trees
        wintering, leafless and bare

A shadow dimmed the skies
     as the light left his gentle eyes
whilst his killers circled round
       knives in hand,
and there’s a stain on our soul
     from the blood-soaked ground
where His dear face was butchered,
         and a curse on the land

Pic:  Tsavo Trust

Satao, it’s dusk,
   the moon is growing…
are You out there?
     were You able to journey into the Night?
or are you trapped,
     weeping for those left behind?
or maybe You’re one of the twinkling golden lights
        that I lift my eyes to
when it all just seems too dark on the ground?

What was it for? 
    a trinket, no more
       You lost your life to satisfy some fool’s greed,
oh Spirit – this heartbreak is too much to bear
     Satao – come get me – I’d rather weep with You out there,

     You must be looking down on Africa
           and praying with the Angels for us 
in this hell that we’ve allowed,
      from the vision of light and love,
how we’ve sunk
    to such darkness defies belief,
             like a thief
the shadows drain the joy from the sun,
if only humans would realise we are all One
     and feel with their hearts instead of think with their brains,
oh Satao – how much longer will this agony carry on…
     until all the trees, the animals are dead and gone?

Christine Jordaan 11 July 2014
© 2017

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