The Lady of the Creek

She spoke softly

Taking care in the words she spoke

Making sure they rolled off her tongue tenderly

In the way madzimai eruwadzano softly agree ‘Amen’ to a pastor’s teachings

Her words were fiery fire

Neatly caressed into a soft flame as if to quench the restlessness of my ever troubled mind

Her aura captivated

Drew me close

And had me in agreeance before my mind even answered yes

She knew calm

She brought it to me

Dying ambers for my thirsty throat

She was the lake and I, the untamable veld fire

Nature’s elements

Made for each other

In parallel seasons


Even though her mere existence

Could easily severe mine


But destined for separate lives


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