Kruger Changing Poem by Bob Blackwell

North of Satara on a dusty road,
Row upon row of thin flat clouds,
sliced smooth, their bottoms gone,
stretch, far as eye can see, moisture
there, no promise rain is guaranteed.
The filtered sun, beats down relentlessly
dries this thirsty dehydrated land. A
scrub land now, tufts of burnt dry grass,
small straggly acacia trees sparsely leafed,
thorns bent, fight vainly for height and width.
No water here, ground is parched, earth dry,
powdered soil, dust clouds fly.
Life is hard, few creatures here, more
death than life, vultures circle overhead.

Lone large presence in this stark dry land,
a large dead tree shows better days have
come and gone, trunk smooth, shaded
grey by sun and wind, no bark to spoil
its sheen. Dead; dried out, breaking down,
its twisted upright arms cry out, implore,
please, please see the beauty, that I was.

Sun still beats down, in distance heat waves rise,
a lone jackal walks head down in search of prey,
black back appears bent in shimmering light.
Alongside a rutted dusty road of dirt, a long line
of tall straight poles dissect this barren land. They
carry light, cool air, give life to distant camp. Lets
now hope, and say a prayer, a wish for better things.

Gazing up clouds have darkened, a distant rumble,
wind blows, its cooler now. Sky blackens, noise is
closer, a flash of light, it grumbles now. On the
horizon, hope appears, a swirl of black, moves up and
down, a dancing dervish shape, that twists and shouts its
raining now. Great big life giving drops of water fall,
the parched earth sighs, and gladly opens up to accept
the heavenly tears. Land now happy, moisture falls,
ground is wet, puddles gather, the waters everywhere.
Storm overhead now, everywhere lightning bolts display,
a thanksgiving festival of light, a gala celebration with
thunder rolls of gratitude, for pouring rain, moistened
earth, and the lake that forms the dam that’s full of joy.













Angel tears worked their magic overnight and the
next day life returns to this long dry thirsty land.
After such a long, long sleep the earth has stretched,
dust has disappeared and green grass begins to sprout.
Later leaves appear and a divine green glow covers
this once dead and empty land. The earth greens,
the spirit of life returns, natures cycle has moved to
replenish, give relief to this once neglected land.

Now we have fluffy happy ice cream clouds of joy,
that promises more delightful rain will fall, to bring
fruits that feed, seeds that nourish, leafy trees for shade,
and new strength to the limp acacia trees. The sun now
aids gives help to improve new growth and the jackals bent
black back straightens. On the branches of the dried out
long dead tree, birds have returned to roost and nest
to give it purpose, a reason to be there.

To witness natures drama play, change scenes before our eyes
is something to behold, remember and recall. Lucky we are
to visit nature parks, and luckier still to visit once again.
This way we witness the best of our natural world, observe its many cycles, different seasons, all in unspoilt places of our land.