Daleen Enslinstrydom (25-02-1967 / Springs, South Africa)
Did you lay early in the morning on the dewed grass
just to see the drops clinging like honey-dew
to a spider’s web?
Have you buried your nose in a rose bud
to preserve the smell in your heart,
when the smell reminds you about someone very special
who trusts you in love?
Have you smelled oats ready to be harvested,
how couch-grass smells after been cut by a sickle
and have you held the blue flowers in your hand?
Have you lost your heart in the bush-veldt
when the earth smells of the sun and heat
and life leaves deep tracks in your heart,
when you find yourself in the kingdom of thorn trees
and try to remember it later.
Have you lost your heart in a gardenia
or did go and greet a marigold
when its small head turns to the sun.
It’s where I find myself
in my calling to silence
in the hour where I meet the Lord;
it is what I want to retain.
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