The Changing Rift Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

Since time's first morning, long ago,
The solid ground began
to grow,
A restless dance beneath our feet,
Where ancient boundaries retreat.

Across the Great East African Rift,
The heavy crust begins to shift,
From Afar's plains to southern shores,
A silent, slow, tectonic war.

The Nubian and Somali plates
Are moving towards their separate fates,
A slow farewell, an inch a year,
As hidden waters venture near.

The cheetahs sprint across the plain,
Where shadows stretch and valleys strain,
The elephants must change their track,
As widening canyons push them back.

The soaring eagles look below
To watch the rising waters flow,
Where acacia trees once stood so high,
New shores will meet the changing sky.

A brand-new sea will flood the floor,
Where lions used to hunt and roar,
And silver fish will learn to glide
Where ancient grasslands used to hide.

What once was joined will break apart,
A newborn sea about to start,
For earth is shifting, wild and free,
Since morning's dawn of history.