Finding your god
After your father’s demise
you didn’t have a god
but you had to find one
or you’re writing of children’s stories
in the nether world of Toeka
(a place far away and long gone)
would come undone.
So we went to caves
to view Bushmen paintings
drove through Namaqualand
visiting quiver trees
to get a pincushion-type quiver
to fit your hunting arrows in
with which you wanted to hunt your god down
past Gifberg with its white poisonous daisies
right through the cruel sea
where only here and there
some clumps of hardy trees
grows defiantly against the Namib Desert
and carrying on through a raging sandstorm
with its suffocating warm wind
and you though that we
would surely find him at God’s finger
near Asab, where you believed
supernatural powers prevail
and the pillar of rock
with the narrow neck
pointing up into the heavens
just looked like erosion to me.
Further on near the Kuiseb River
you believed the canyon to be ablaze
as if your god was walking there
but still he was nowhere
and at Okaukuejo we went to the magic forest
of Moringa ovalifolia trees
and you were certain that now
we were drawing near
as these trees looked
as if they were flung out of paradise
landing upside down
where they were still growing
and at the Etosha pan
we saw a large herd of Oryx
drinking water
[...] Read more
poem by Gert Strydom
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