Namaqualand Poem by Charl JF Cilliers

It’s mid-September in Namaqualand.

After the rains the stones take root
and blossom from the hills down to the streams.

Each morning, as the earth warms up, a mist
of colour spreads: God’s gasp of wonderment.

Tourists plash along the muddy country roads
through open farm gates that let God’s garden in.

From Kamieskroon to Skilpad, Garagams and Groenrivier,
Garies, Wallekraal, Soebatsfontein
the flowering fields have gone unharvested

till mid-September’s parching storms of dust.