Memories of Chobe

A perfume of trees
caresses my nostrils.
Amidst the thorns a
 baobab fills the air.
A skirtish impala
breaks through the bush
  and leaps,
while a baby scrambles quickly behind.

The smell is incredible.

The view,

divine.

I am in a land of age

that knows no age,

only sand and sun

and how to survive.

Breaking rain
soaks the earth
bringing green grass
  and smiles;
a long forgotten visitor
 to these parts.

Oh zebra, kudu

 giraffe and gnu

our telephoto eyes

will not harm you.

Beware the lion's deadly gaze.

The cheetah's leap

and leopard's fang

A constant graze of fear

   and survival.

~~~~~~~~~

Is that a wild dog I see?

It's glittering eye looking at me.

Off on a hunt

with the rest of the pack

to run down impala;

 a mid-morning snack.

~~~~~~~~~

Lazing on the river

in a mokoro boat.

Splashing at each other

when we're allowed out.

It's off to view a hippo

and maybe see a croc

Not to worry if they get to close

The polers are off like a shot.

~~~~~~~~~~

How to spell tsessebe?

-A thought that crossed my mind

With its circled bum

You can easily see

This antelope friend of mine.

~~~~~~~~~

I saw a road closed sign today.

I had to laugh, I'll have to say.

For what is a road

in this land of sand?

but two tire tracks

going from pan to pan.

*****

    These are poems that were written from the road many moons ago. The rough script in my journal can be deciphered, despite the bouncing location they were written in; high atop an overland truck, our mighty Samil. The poetry is a little weak in my opinion, but I appreciate the images that they put forth, so I thought I would add them as a continuation to my African tales. Oh, and the animal mentioned in the second to last poem was incorrect in its description, for those of you that may know. A Water Buck is the antelope with white circular markings on its behind. A tsessebe is more comparable to a North American deer. Enjoy. I wish you a safe road to travel as you wend your way through life...

Cold Sunshine Promises

The weather outside my door

has turned a might

cold

today.

Spring gifts

are left closed,

despite

Sunshine

Brilliant

in its splendour

and promises

of Spring

Advanced Pose

    I stretched out on the floor with my eyes closed. Her voice gently tickled and encouraged its way into my psyche. A huge yawn escaped me and she reflected that this was our bodies' way of cooling down the brain (hot head. Ha!).

   "It also serves to give us more energy", she advised. With limbs the weight of oak trees and  an attempt to stretch arms to the skies, I had to agree. That yawn must have given me some energy, as I could not lift them overhead at day break when little people were curling in to bed with me. Now my leaves unfurled with passion. I was a mighty tree with roots reaching down into the earth, as other swaying trees tried to distract my touch with the heavens.

   Breath. Advance pose for those that want to try it; curl the corners of your lips upwards as well. It's called a smile and she can always get one from me. She is beautiful. A red-tipped flame we all flock to for strength and approval. "So what", she says at our off days. We are here, now, and present. That is my present. Yes, to me. To breath and take on the advanced poses with that tricky little action called a smile. For so long I could not accomplish that tricky trick. Today, I forced myself to drag into the studio, hoping not to fall asleep in savasana. A little piece of me knew better. My yawn and closed eyes opened to a new day. I had energy and life and that little thing called a smile to carry forth into the rest of my day.

Namaste to you, my teacher V. Namaste to my fellow yoginis who teach me so much about life on and off the mat (and introduced me to a new Japanese restaurant today. Yum!). Namaste to me, for being present and showing up on the mat and sharing my smile with the world. Peace unto you.

Date with the past

   I am trying hard not to listen to that practiced little voice in my head. I can hear it. Oh, yes I can. I am trying really hard to not give it substance though. This is the struggle that I have been grappling with for the last little while. Ok, more like long while. Despite making headway with several avenues of my  life, I am sliding back into self-doubt with an imminent date with my past. Sigh, I just cannot be good enough. shit

   Excuse me, I do not like to be vulgar or swear here. That is not what I need to do in my blog. I want to write, grow, be creative and learn with this process. All of these things I have done (I think?). I do not have a huge following by any stretch, but I do have friends that swing by to see what is happening in my world on a regular basis. I love that. I really do. As I have noted recently, I think that this process is bringing me to a more creative forte. I am becoming a better writer, in my eyes anyway. So I truly value this place and the process that is bringing me this worth.

   So what is my problem today? I am meeting up with a relative of my husband's for dinner this evening. We have seen each other pretty infrequently since he passed. We do talk on the computer, probably more than any other of his relatives. She has marginal contact with Brad's parents (their relationship is not quite as strong as it could be, I have been told). There might not be a spot of our conversation that goes beyond the bounds of McDs, but then again there might be. Does it matter? I guess my stewing right now tells me that it does. Damn, why do I let things haunt me? You see my relationship with my husband's kin kind of dissolved not long after he died. It is truly a shame, as I regret my children losing a Father, but also a big chunk of family after the fact. Marginal contact with a few aunts on both of his sides exists, but not the same as on my side of the family. I struggled with these relationships after Brad died and tried to make peace with where things were. And I have. At some point, I may go back and make more amends, but I am not ready yet. Part of that has been my self-worth. I have struggled for me to be good enough for me. I have jockeyed with this in my mind as my status with other people too, but ultimately it comes down to me. Right now, I am feeling better about myself. I am sure sunshine helps that along, but really many more days find smiles.

   Today though my mind twists. I imagine the conversation tonight. "How are you and the girls?" fine "What is new with everyone?" everything and nothing "What are you doing with yourself nowadays?" ack! Whatever answer I concoct, will it be good enough? I stand by truth, but you still present and form it into an acceptable picture for others. STOP! stopstopstop

   Ok, I am going to clean my house (so that I can feel like a better house wife?) and maybe sort through some clothes for my donation pickup on Friday (so altruistic!). I am going to turn on some music, so that I can distract myself. And I am going to let it all go. Thank you for letting me vent. I am sure I will be fine. Back to me another day...

Darwin weighs in

    My gaze flicked the horizon for tell-tale signs of the animals that we had been surrounded by whilst in the Okavengo Delta. Occasionally the fleeting form of an antelope of some sort or another would bound out of view. My face was beginning to hurt from all the smiles that had dwelt there over the past few days. I was in awe at the beauty of Botswana’s back country. From the inherent safety of our mokoros, I reflected back on our time in the Delta. One day we had been taken to a dry plain within the vastness of the swamp, where we had explored our surroundings on foot. The day started early, as decent game viewing was only accomplished at dawn. While feeling the twinges of apprehension at exposing ourselves to the dangers of the wilds, and protected by the merest of cautions offered by our guides, we set forth with cameras in hand to capture our surroundings. Elephants and giraffes grazed ahead of us, not quite far enough to be called distant. Wildebeest moved along with herds of zebras. I refused to believe that anything as dangerous as a lion or hyena would cross our path as we walked along on foot. By the time the heat of the day sent the animals into hiding for siesta, we too were ready to seek out our shelters and rest. Later in the afternoon, we bathed in groups in the warm waters of the Okavengo River. Even close to camp, we heeded the caution that was put forth. More stories of crocodiles coming to snatch us from our feet, kept us close to shore. We had gone back to a primordial time, where survival of the fittest was a fact of life. This reality was not lost on us, as even Darwin joined us around the campfire at night. From the security of memory, I drifted.