Filled with Silver Wind

break a chunk of tanzanite sky,
and hold it to the falling sun,
the purple precipitate of dusk
dances within the crystal blue;

sift sunlight through your fingers,
let golden pearls gently drop
around the lava painted throat
of the throbbing valley floor;

gather the jewels if you can,
seal them shut behind your eyes,
look, the ivory gleams pale
against the velvet lips of night;

that lilac breasted roller mocks,
with a flash of silken sapphire wing,
even the river laughs in ruby swirls,
at your thirsty supplication;

for you stand, but a naked monk,
clad in an unseen topaz gaze,
your empty begging bowl
filling slowly with the silver wind;

feed the riches to your soul,
ornament your shrivelled dreams,
gather the jewels if you can
and seal them shut behind your eyes;

propitiate the obsidian dark,
surrender to that opal moon,
gather the jewels in your eyes,
and pray there will be no morning.

 

#NotesFromTheMasaiMara