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(25-02-1967 / Springs, South Africa)

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An angel brought us home

Its mid December,
the sun is high up in the sky
and it’s a beautiful day,
a few clouds are accumulating
and its two days before Christmas
and everybody is busy
cleaning their dwellings.

The local workers are decorating their houses
with cow dung and are scratching patterns onto the walls
and are colouring them with clay
and to the traditional ladies
this is a fierce competition

and for that reason old Anna
sends little Malita to collect some clay
and I go along
with her to the cliffs down at the river

and playfully we walk in the dried up river bed,
unaware that a storm is brewing
and the rain and the hail fall in a torrent
and we hurry to get out of the riverbed
when we see a wall of water rushing towards us,
rumbling and crushing everything in its way.

There are tree trunks and torn off plants
in that great stream of water
and we are cornered
on a dry ledge against a cliff
when the tree right next to us
falls over and breaks and crushing
and our hearts drop with it

and in our minds we are
already drowning
as neither of us can swim
and on that small rock ledge
we kneel down to pray
that God will send an angel
to protect us
and it feels like hours
before the rain stops.

The fallen tree
makes a bridge right across the river
and trembling we crossed over
to the other side
and at the farmstead
everybody is expecting the worst

and when we are save
everybody wants to know
who the man was
that had brought us home
and although we did never see him
we know that God had sent an angel
to guard over us.

Submitted: Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, July 24, 2013


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  • Dave Walker (7/24/2013 3:41:00 AM)

    A wonderful poem, the Angel watched over you.

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