Tuesday, 15 November 2016

Broken Mirror



Credit Unknown

When I look back I do not want to see that Evil continued,
because I did not want to know,
because life was more comfortable so.

When I am remembering my life,
I do not want to hear the children’s screams
as they’re betrayed by those in positions of power,
broken bodies and shattered dreams,
raped, tortured, killed by politicians we vote for.

I do not want to feel the animals’ pain
at their moment of slaughter
so that some twisted human's bloodlust thrills,
or as they are murdered to feed
our insatiable need for their drained flesh.

Don’t let me see the blood-soaked ground
where countless people have died
slain by our own governments’ lies
to fulfill the plans of the Satanic Elite
who sacrifice the Innocent at Lucifer’s feet
as they gorge themselves full
of power from the kill.

No, no, no
let me rather cry now,
let me try now,
let me fight now,
so I can go into the shadows one day at peace with myself,
and I will not know with sickening shame that I looked away
because it was easier that way.

Show me the Truth and I promise to face it
no matter how hard
or what dark place it takes me to,
the pain of a broken heart
is less terrifying to me
than the agony of a guilty conscience would be.

Name the enemy, declare the war,
choose your side, and sharpen your sword!

#TakeBackEarth

Christine Jordaan
15 November 2016

© 2017




Monday, 7 November 2016

I AM Love



© 2017

I am a cat stalking along city rooftops
independent and free
nobody owns me

I am a swan dreaming gently
in the pale gold reeds at the lake’s edge
sheltering for the winter

I am a dragon soaring high overheard
roaring flames to protect Her land

I am a deer trembling
in the misty purple heather
I quiver,
every fibre of my being alert to the sound of Him
coming through the deepening Dusk

Inchnadamph, Assynt, Scotland, 2002
With all of my heart and soul
with every atom and particle
along every string and wave in the multiverse
I love the King Stag

I feel His love in the heat of the sun warming me
I see His power in the strength of the eagle’s wing as He glides overhead
my heart breaks for His nobility as He dips His antlers
to Her full light rising
a pale circle like a fat dew drop on a green leaf in the deep forest

I am a spider spinning my web
new and glistening each day
trying to tell Him in a different way
how much I love Him
I spin a story
just for Him
about my conversations with Night
just before Dawn broke

I am in the silent pool
a reflection just waiting
for Him to see me
Glen Helen, Isle of Man, 1999
I do not wish to join the river
for it will carry me away from Him
I want to stay here forever
below the secret high places
just waiting
to see His proud silhouette
against the twilight sky
as He steps regally down the valley
every breath I draw
is one of longing
and hoping
and dreaming
my heart is full to bursting
of knowing
Love

I told my secret to the breeze
tickling me softly at midday
the breeze told the clouds
that quickly blew my way
they shook themselves empty
of their clean, clear rain
and I was waiting,
just hoping
He would come to drink again

The stars tiptoed out
through the heavy velvet sky
and took their places one by one
as planets wheeled by

I lay so still
just drifting
quietly in the Dream
as a leaf gives up Will
and floats
trusting down the stream

He was wild
He was roaming
the lonely vast free
and my heart was roaming with him
as the shade is to the tree
Assynt, Scotland, July 2002

By Christine Jordaan, 2013
© 2017

Thursday, 20 October 2016

Time to Awaken



Picture Credit:  Dhillon Deviant Art

In every ancient culture the People have a Sleeping Hero -
Legend promises he will arise when needed to defend the land
When the danger is greatest…
It seems pretty dark right now so I wrote this...
Lady and Lord of the North and Earth
of the caves of death, and the Soul’s rebirth
of mountain peaks reaching up to the sky
and rocky chasms where diamonds lie
please grant us your Presence and power
Lady and Lord of the East and Air
of gentle breezes and winds that tear
of the breath of Spirit upon which eagles glide
and blows pictures with clouds in the deep blue sky
please grant us your Presence and power
Lady and Lord of the South and Fire
of the spark of life and the witches’ pyre
of dancing flames and devouring burning
Strength forged in the flames from tortured yearning
please grant us your Presence and power
Lady and Lord of the West and Water
of healing wells and cleansing lighter
of underground rivers and oceans deep
and silent lakes where secrets sleep
please grant us your Presence and power
Hecate,
Goddess of the Underworld
Keeper of the Crossroads
your Priestess kneels weeping
at the sacred well
and the King lies asleep in the mountain
ln a time now passed into fairytale
the legend of Arthur and his Knights of the Holy Grail
told of a sacred pledge that He would heed this call
and when all seemed lost and the world would fall
He would awaken to defend his land once more
Arthur,
hero king of old
this is the hour that the prophecy foretold
awaken, awaken
the wildwood has fallen
and the Lady is taken
She is imprisoned in chains
and darkness is covering our lands
deep Earth knowing
let him hear
the screams of beasts and his people crying
rich soil growing
make him whole
Hecate, please may he pass and guide his soul
Arthur, awaken from your sleep
time for the King to battle once more
lands are burning
sun wheel turning
devils are swarming to Her shores
forests falling
oceans dying
animals tortured
children crying
promises were broken and angels fell
souls are lost in earthly hell
hearts are closed to the Lady’s pain
shattered minds erupt in flames
madness stalks the screaming homes
god is long abandoned
and the devil sits on his throne
deep Earth knowing
let him hear
the screams of beasts and his people crying
rich soil growing
make him whole
Hecate, please may he pass and guide his soul
and let the spirit of the noble king
enter into every man
and their Hero awaken deep within
and may they rise up and defend the land
by all the power of land and sea
as I have spoken may it come to be
with the grace of moon and the strength of sun
as Love is within me and through Love we are One
all is now done
all is now done
April 2014

Update 29 November 2016:  Since the horror of #PizzaGate broke - I have been wresting with my understanding of The Sacred...   actually not my understand of it, in so much as how I communicate with it... I love Nature... watching and celebrating the seasons change... to me Nature is Spirit made manifest and the Source of our greatest spiritual strength... but how on Earth do I sit on an Autumn Equinox and celebrate the beauty and energy of Autumn when I know that the #PedoFile elite sacrifice humans on this date.
When I speak about Hecate above.. in my mind I am speaking about a facet of the Divine Feminine which is "half" of The Sacred.  Hecate, Keeper of the Crossroads, who guides us in the darkness, keeping us safe.  So I feel compelled to point out that I am a LIGHTWORKER.  Not an evil witch!
However this #PizzaGate has definitely taken the joy out of the mythology of the ancient times for me.
I think to avoid attracting to myself entities that are not whom I think they may be because these #PedoFreaks are superimposing their evil on Earth, I think from now on I shall just refer to the G(o)od Force.

Raise your frequency!

Yes, it seems as if the world is falling apart. It is. This could be a great thing. The current reality sucks and benefits only the 1%. Earth is dying, animals hover on the precipice of extinction, ancient forests are being torn down, children are starving, being abused, and trafficked. Yet others drown in the horror and prison of drugs, blocking out the real and relinquishing control. Truly - the (d)evil sits happily on his throne right now.

What will be born from the ashes depends a lot on our expectations and our energy frequency - like attracts like.  We're magnets. Our expectations and thoughts create our reality. At the moment the future is unformed energy soup. Our thoughts in this present now, which is all we ever have, is what creates the future - our expectations give the energy form and shape.

Focus on an Earth so bright that our Souls are able to descend into our physical bodies.


Picture credit: cycle.wordpress.com
It is now more important than ever to hold true to the vision of what we want - heaven on Earth (which spells "heart").
Focus on the g(o)od, and starve the (d)evil of energy. Our intention to create a better planet (spells "plane") for EVERYONE will help manifest it.

Incidentally energy spells "green". Besides signalling energy itself should be green and renewable... it's also a hint to use plants to raise our frequency. Different plants have different energies. If you're battling now with all the Chaos swilling around and seeking to instill itself in our reality and bodies... go talk to trees and flowers. Just look at them and visualise Earth becoming lighter, purer, and humanity kinder. Nature is Spirit made manifest and should be the source of our energy (we don't need to steal energy from the animals by eating or killing them - this feeds the (d)evil). 

Setting our intention to manifest a brighter and lighter Earth is half the battle won. We must want it, long for it, dream it into being.

What we truly want the Universe will deliver.

And remember Nature hates a vacuum. Don't deplore the darkness, and forget to focus on the light.

Hold true to the Vision.

Expect miracles.

Be blessed everyone.





Tuesday, 11 October 2016

Mozambique 2016

Wow that was a bit of an emotional trip back to Santa Maria, Mozambique last week.  In October 2013 I left, after ten years there, and returned to South Africa. 

There's been a lot of changes - a new restaurant, Bemujis, in the Mangroves really makes a great addition.  But on the whole the area has retained it's laid-back, raw charm.

Luckily the bay was calm on the way there.  (NOT the return trip).

Maputo Skyline


Dhow

Bemujis restaurant on the bay


Mr Dick Nhonguane
Inhaca island in the background

Rugby in the mangroves



Meeting with The Boss - Nkosi Zacarias Nhonguane

Love the licence plate

Sandbanks at low tide


Catching up with my dear friend Abel, now in his 80s








Beach Bar







Monday, 26 September 2016

A Lesson

Today I met with Prince Mangosuthu Buthelezi, President of the Inkatha Freedom Party.
It's the third time I have had the privilege but the first time he brought me to serious (secret) tears.


I had asked him a question about his memories of lions, and if increasing urbanisation of his people had somehow bought a disconnection from Nature... a kind of spiritual vacuum.  But the magnitude of his answer only really hit me when I was back on the very windy 15th floor rooftop parking of the Royal Hotel.

He had explained to me, briefly and gently, that it was very difficult to see lions during the years of apartheid because the game reserves were exclusively for white people. And that the first time he saw a lion was as a trophy in the United States!

I cried into the hot wind and watched the harbor for a while from the rooftop with this sharp pain in my heart.

I wondered if the extremely high levels of violence we experience in South Africa could come from this enforced disconnection from Nature... about the loss of folklore - if the children couldn't even access the areas where the wild animals were, how did they relate to their own mythology and worldview?  And then I remembered my good friend and Comrade, Xolanie Khumaloe, saying recently that at thirty-something years old he had just been into a game reserve for the first time in his life and seen rhinos. 

Perhaps the people shouting that black Africans don't care for wildlife might stop for a second and consider that for so long indigenous Africans have been deliberately excluded from their wildlands… the sacred spaces that root them in Mother Africa… where they could otherwise find comfort in their ancient songs and rituals in an increasingly fast-paced world.  Perhaps the desensitisation to violence that we see increasing could arise from being lost in their own homes?

How can we expect people to save the animals if they don’t even know them?

So I must thank You, once again, Your Excellency, for your unfailing commitment to preservation of our natural heritage, and also for the deep lesson of today.  My last thought on the windy rooftop was that You remind me of a lion… blazing brightly, a shining Star to follow, and inspire us.  And I remembered too, that Darkness always tries to destroy the Light.  They tried to destroy You.. but they never got it right – You’re still burning brightly.  I pray, really, really pray, that the Lion too will continue to blaze for future generations, as will Your legacy.  A Light to hold onto when it seems as if the World is falling into Darkness.

I will leave it here with a quote from Hon Narend Singh on the CITES Conference currently running in South Africa.

"Why do we continue to choose destruction and indiscriminate killing over conservation…?”

Why indeed Minister Molewa and South African government?

What legacy are you leaving?

Thursday, 9 June 2016

Captured

© 2017

As the Light grew, the Dark became jealous,
prowling at the edge of her Psyche,
whispering, tempting,
seducing with pretty promises and luring lies

Feeding off the Shadow,
hidden and hurting,
twisting and tricking,
until her Soul, distraught,
torn apart by anguish,
sought refuge in the Void,
giving a last regretful look before turning away
and stepping off the Edge into the Abyss

There in the icy Wasteland Souls hover,
frozen inside,
they know that they died a long, long time ago
Whilst outside, the human predators stalk and trap,
and Gentle is shackled in Bluebeard’s castle,
blindfolded, bound,
lost in the mists,
cold steel at her wrists,
drifting in and out of the Real,
keeping the panic at bay and the ghosts away,
by withdrawing and refusing to feel
Until one day all is flames and searing pain
as her Soul awakens again,
Realisation slams her head into the wall,
and the Long Road back begins
through the Underworld to seek what was lost
amidst the still smouldering ashes of the past

Standing once more before the dreadful door
that she was too afraid to open before,
there are no shortcuts or detours,
it’s the only way out
through the City of Ugly
back up to the Light

From the icy Abyss
through the Fire
down into Hell,
the Ego and pride is fractured,
fragmented,
broken,
to purify and strengthen the Soul

by Christine Jordaan 
09 June 2016

© 2017



Sunday, 29 May 2016

This Vote You Have

Once upon a time Source was dreaming, and His dreams became matter manifesting into Earth (which spells  “Heart” ). 

This beautiful planet was a Spiritual School and the ultimate qualification was to learn to remain focused in love even during the darkest times.  The golden lesson was that Love can conquer all.

But in order for humans to learn our lessons in this Spiritual School there had to be Dark as well as Light.  So the (d)Evil manifested too, with his mission being to break our Heart (Earth).  He imprisoned Her deep underground where She remains chained by Mankind’s seven deadly Sins.

Eons passed.  The Ice came and retreated, came and retreated. 
We grew into a complex society, at last able to reflect upon our choices and actions, and technologically capable of surviving in harmony with the Earth.  All we needed was the will to do so.  If we remained true to the Golden Rule that Love can accomplish anything – poverty would be abolished.

But the (d)Evil had not been idle… and so the world polarised into the haves and have-nots. And also into those operating from Faith, those operating from Fear, and those with no choice really on how to live because they’re too busy trying to survive under the socio-economic system that was rigged for the benefit of the elite few.

Now here we are in South Africa in 2016 with municipal elections approaching in August.  Under the ancient Chaldean numerological system the number  “20”  represents  “The Awakening”  or  “The Judgement”. 
“16”  symbolises the  “ Tower Struck by Lightning from which a man is falling with a Crown on his head."   It is also called   "The Shattered Citadel".  August is the 8th month with  “8”  representing  “Power and Abundance”.  And the sum total for the day 03 + 08 (August) + 9 (2016) = 20.  The Awakening!     

Thus 2016 is a key year leading up to our General Elections in 2019.  Again  “20”  represents  “The Awakening”.    “19” represents “The Sun”  or  “The Prince of Heaven”.  Clearly 2016 and 2019 are pivotal years in South Africa’s future.

Driving through town I see more and more beggars on the street to break my heart.  More violence ripping through the country.  Literally burning, in violent service-delivery protests across the nation, South Africa is on the brink.

But I hear… “I won’t vote.  It won’t count….”   Do people not realise how important their vote is?
  
This vote you have…

What will you feed your children when the Fat Cats have stolen all the cream?
they have taken on the power but betrayed the Struggle’s dream,
ensconced in ivory towers, feeling neither hunger nor the cold,
they have traded the blood of the Sacrificed,
and sold our Rainbows for fake gold

When hunger dims the brightest eye and the smiles of Innocence fade away,
and sounds of little knights at play no longer brighten up the day,
when the old and poor and the uncared-for,
are left in passageways to die,
for lack of funds and medical cards
why are we living with the Lie?

Whilst just next door the champagne flows,
and the Dragon gives a ghastly smile,
and drinks a potion of our lions’ bones,
thus capturing Africa’s soul,
and the King of Beasts in his shadowed cage
awaits his turn to die,
golden eyes grow dim with pain,
staring sightless up at the sky

The Fat Cats grin and hand over our land and gold,
but its far, far more that they’ve stolen and sold,
fracking splits the Earth apart,
and GM crops poison Her breaking Heart

Where will Moon reflect upon Herself
when the waters dry into concrete and desert sand?
who will be left to cry when the last tree falls
to the Shadow Self of Man?

When the World’s Wild Soul sighs its last pitiful breath,
and the Titans are unchained to unleash blood and death,
when Poseidon raises his trident up to the darkening sky
where crazy comets crash and fuming Furies fly

The ocean swells,
Man’s Empire falls,
Father Time yawns and swallows up all
the dancing substances give their final bow
and we’re sucked back into the Void to mourn our broken Vow

Down we all go to the House of Hades,
to pray for mercy amongst the wailing shades,
demons knowing,
red eyes glowing,
claw to pick Souls clean of Ego’s dream

Oh!
The short sharp pain
when the blinkers fall
and we realise how we’ve failed yet again,
our Souls were screaming out for Heaven’s golden dream
but the Fear won and the (d)Evil prevailed
and Lady Earth now lies bleeding and beaten

So, you see, this vote you have,
it’s the Crossroads that we’re now at
and the choice you make will paint the coming years
who do you want to speak for you – bloated puppets
feeding us controlling fears?

These Fat Cats in their fancy cars
while children are sleeping on the streets?
who stuff their stomachs with wine and cake
while a mother sells her body so her child can eat?
the Dragon’s mask and its cANCerous sores
erupting into burning schools?

There’s a child in front of you 
with dreams as big as big can be,
he wants to be a Spaceman or maybe sail off to sea,
this vote you have it’s a gift to him – in fact it is a key,
which door will you open for him
      – a land of Chains or a world of Free?

This vote you have, it was bought with blood,
and if I still my mind I can hear the Heroes crying,
they speak of shame and searing pain,
and remind us of the dream for which they died

by Christine Jordaan
28 May 2016

Note:  The Dragon = China !
And heroes/ines dying for the vote include the global fight for women to vote, as well as “non-white”s under apartheid law.





Friday, 6 May 2016

Who is Dreaming Me?

Who is dreaming me?
that I’m tossing around on this black raging Sea?
and I am journeying the Wastelands
instead of home safe and warm,
buffeted by gales and devoured by Storm,
travelling the inner ways under dark-shadowed Sky,
        Whose dream am I?

This notion of Fate being woven by the Three,
do we not have any say over our Destiny?
who is singing my so-called reality?
       Who is dreaming Me?

Are they objective, subjective, loving, stern?
is the pain and the suffering the lessons we must learn?
and who are the combatants of this war raging within?
        Am I an Angel or Original Sin?

March 2017
This quest to know Truth,
these glimmers that tease me,
through this Dark Night,
this Long Night,
       Who is dreaming Me?

For surely we are the dream and Source is the Dreamer,
We are the tapestry and Spirit is the Weaver,
We are the Smile She laughs when we play,
We are the Tears He cries when we stray,
And the Path home,
the long road that we all walk alone,
is the Quest of the Seeker
as we reap what we’ve sown

Thus Earth is the school and Life is the stage,
where we act out the Mystery through each passing Age,
when we’ve learnt all our lessons and passed all our tests,
tripped up and messed up, and given it our best,
        do we get to wake up and dream our own dream?
        perhaps answer the question 
            Who is dreaming me?

If the Sphinx is the image of the God at the time
represented by the Sun, 
and Heart spells Earth,
is it the Quest of the Grail to rebirth ourselves,
so our Souls can descend and the Lion-God return?

Thus the long road, the dark road,
upon which our Spirit is grown
is through the Heart of the Son (Sun) 
           when we love All as One!

Christine Jordaan 06 May 2016

© 2017

Credit:  Kriss Kringle





Thursday, 5 May 2016

The Mirror

I look in the mirror and see…
a child with a gun
staring at me,
a body lying in the sand
killed by lies,
and swarming with dirty, black flies
and I know that part of me pulled the trigger;
I look in the mirror and see…
a starving dog bleeding in chains,
and my hand is still holding the stone
as I kneel in the dirt all alone;
I look in the mirror and see…
a woman bound, hurt, and enslaved,
and I know that I have the key
tucked away safely,
I could set her free;
I look in my mind and see
all the anger, the doubts, and the fears
I look in my heart and hear
the whispers of a million dreams,
secret hopes and unshed tears
I turn back to the mirror
and reach through the glass to the child,
I have to love him better to have a fairer world,
and I have to love him better
because he is me.
Christine Jordaan
05 May 2014

© 2017

WE NEED TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR THIS WORLD WE ARE CO-CREATING, WHETHER WE ARE DOING SO CONSCIOUSLY OR UNCONSCIOUSLY!

Sunday, 14 February 2016

Who is an African?



These pics have been really upsetting me...

 

but then I listened to this song... 


   
and I felt a spear stab in my heart...

I imagined standing in a rural garden somewhere... dust rising from a vehicle approaching and my son calling me, panic in his eyes... “hurry, mom, don’t let them get you”... his fear palpable in his voice that “they” would take me away, and he would be left all alone...

Perhaps the youth in the photos above is just stirring up trouble, but I imagined someone like him, when he was a child, his heart hammering... at the dust rising from a car approaching down the dirt road...  his mother running to him, dropping the water she had been collecting...

and I touched the darkness... our collective Wound that is still bleeding...

I couldn’t stop crying... for all the damaged people in this country...

and I remembered my normally gentle father arriving home drunk, and his Shadow Self emerging...  (something bad happened to him in the army -the ENFORCED army service white men HAD to do, where they got brainwashed and fcked up!)... and him wanting to shoot us... 
us running away in the middle of the night, many, many, far-too-many times... ugly, twisted violence... and that too was from the evils of apartheid...
Bad things happen when you brainwash people into committing violence that their Soul revolts against... cognitive dissonance splits them apart inside...  my normally gentle father who wrote beautiful poetry...

“...Immortal time stills most things
Is he one who cries peace?
Then murmurs do not cease?
Killing while he prays and sings,
Or is he leading in
His own small fisherman?”

but changed into the Devil when alcohol dropped the barriers to the Bad Memory.

I raged inside for all the broken families in this country... torn apart by hatred ...

And I remembered standing in London in the snow, missing Africa, during my 5 year stay in the UK... but then being utterly devastated to come back here after discovering the beauty of the far north Scottish Highlands, the total FREEDOM of wandering up in the hills at midnight on a moonlit summer’s night, just myself and the deer....

Forced to come back to Africa when my visa expired (well I had overstayed by a little bit of 3 years), and my dad died...
crying myself to sleep during the looooong frozen-inside years in Mozambique because I hated being in Africa... then eventually 13 years after returning to Africa... arriving back,  shocked, in KwaZulu Natal, a single mom of a toddler... feeling like an alien in the place I grew up...  not knowing where I belonged or wanted to be.

Then last month I was chatting to some people on an online forum -



The man said I am not African because I am white,

I didn’t argue because I didn’t want to fight,

but I sat at my desk and asked myself out loud,

Who then is an African?

in fact,

       Who am I?



Journeying down the Ages in my mind,

trying to stretch my senses through the murky shadows of Time,

ships setting sail from the North,

hungry from reports of minerals and land,

laden with dreams,

and bloody agendas planned



People and wildlife chased and killed,

lands cleared, cities built,

all in the name of Religion and Crown

pristine forests became Man’s towns



Farms planted,

prayers chanted

“heathen” converted for “their own good”

taught to live how obedient “natives” should



Wagons trekking,

some building,

some wrecking,

blood spilt in humans’ never-ending wars

always grasping,

killing,

wanting more,

tribes clashing,

burning, slashing,

black on black

white on black

black on white

white on white



Time passing,

Greed seated on His Throne of Empire,

tentacles spreading wide, 

growing power swallowing all,

little bushmen no place left to hide



Until I am back in 2016



Am I really rooted in this land that I call home?

if I am African why do I so feel alone?

I look around at this poverty and crime

do I even want to be African?

to call this mess mine?



Must my child be hated just because his skin is white?

is there no place for him here without a fight?

and if not here,

well then where should we be?

where on this Earth is home for Me?



Who is an African?



Is it a love of the land and the beasts? 

or a peace within from feeling at home?

does participating in the economy count –

the money you earn, what you own?

is it the prayers one confides to the soft African Night

of a society based on Love and Light?



Is it one who listens to the wind how it could be?

or the elephant herd showing how it should be?

or seeing the future in the flames how it would be

if people stopped naming by color,

and just looked at a man and saw brother?



Could it be that it’s not a question of skin pigment but of Soul?

That to be an African

is to draw strength from Earth Mother,

to be whole?



And now the heavens just opened

and rain is splashing through my window,

easing the drought and parched Soul,

and all of a sudden the storm drama strikes true

‘cos to be African is to REALLY REALLY TRULY love the rain

and run out and dance in it before drought claims us again



So I put it to you that Africa is a chord,

a mood, a scent,

and being African is to hear Her in the winds,

and the waves,

and hungry bush flames,

and to see Her in Her summertime ripeness,

and Her dry Winter death,

to smell Her in the elephant dung,

and the sour City sweat

and if you’re born here,

and live here,

cry here,

and try here

in Her lonely, silent spaces

and noisy, human places

then you’re African, no matter your race!



Mother Africa was here before humans

and will remain when we’re gone,

She doesn’t care what colour we are

if we could all just get on,

and if we’re defining being African by being from a place,

then She is The Boss not any one race!



So now I know who I am,

but do You?

have you looked deep inside and felt it all through?

do you have to dominate to make yourself feel good?

to make yourself more by making others feel less than they should?

do you have to break down instead of building up?

‘cos that way you’re in control and you’re afraid there’s not enough?

and are you using excuses ‘cos deep down you’re feel afraid you won’t measure up?


Are you prepared to rise higher and break this cycle of hate?


Then now imagine! 

a South Africa truly free

from this heart-breaking division,

and instead there is Unity

built on a foundation of Love, 

and manifested in TRUE Equality



There’s surely enough arable land,

no one need starve if common good is our aim

instead of profit,

and chuck out the GMs and fracking -

if we allow nature to die so do we

Sun gives us enough power, 

and it’s healthy and basically free

stop allowing our animals to be killed just for fun

They are African too - We are ALL One

if we are building with their blood

we weave violence into our society

because like attracts like -

so we need to set our frequency

for the highest good of all

with Love and Light at our core.