Ochre

That ochre coloured place,

Where my heart is at home,

Where my soul can sit at ease on its throne,

Where my kin hold my hand firm and I never feel alone.

 

That ochre coloured place,

That blows dust that chases,

That presents me with all its earthy graces,

That is ageless and has so many phases.

 

That ochre coloured place,

With its lores and songs, sung,

With its bottom of a once been ocean floor,

With its keen sense of rights and wrongs,

With its wars fought and healing young.

 

That ochre coloured place,

Where I can speak in tongues,

With once were warrior lungs,

Where people dance the dance of creation,

And dreams lead me into self exploration.

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About dustforthedancers

Poet, creative, cultural and community seeder, feeder, maybe one day I'll be a leader. Of my own path at least...
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