Enlightenment Bearers

This the land of Timbavati, where white lions once trod,

Who came from the stars, vessels of God.

The enlightenment bearers, were a sacred form

History’s omen of a bloody storm.

They were columns of gold, and bowed to no-one

Eyes were humming-bird blue, electric quartz shone,

From snow mobiles, with huge wheat-grass crests,

To carpeted capes that curled upon their chests,

Like Samson’s ringlets of regal power,

They surfed as one, among arid bowers.

Swimming through scorched riffs.

Love forged them from the land, a gift,

Their beauty was their inner light,

Hunted by man, for greed and spite

The land is empty now, no sacred forms of white

Just a haunting nimbus of gold, in a starless night.