Kenya – where the rich red soil of Africa is like the living blood of life,
Where bones protrude from the soil in profusion,
Testament to the proliferation of the creatures that were there before.
Kenya – whose valley was the seat of all our births.
Whose yellow sun and blue sky still shine as it did on the very first;
The first of us to stand tall, pick up a tool and question the stars.
Kenya – where the elephant once roamed in huge numbers and the game grazed the plains
Providing rich pickings for those who were there to be part of that web.
Kenya – where the air sang to the ears of those first people, where the land glowed with colour and the breeze was pungent with the scent of life.
Kenya where camp-fires warmed the soul with chatter and tales of daring
Where the stars mysteriously glistened and mystery abounded with wonder.
Kenya – where it began for us.
Now I want to stand in that valley, tease out the bones to remind me of the past, taste that breeze and look up at that sky
Just to see if there are any traces left of that magic.
For Kenya – I fear we’ve left our souls in the spilt blood of your soil, yet our bones are still inexplicably walking.
I would bury myself in your soil where I belong.
Africa is where humans evolved. I have an affinity for that red soil – to walk the Olduvai Gorge where the fossil bones litter the ground. Once Africa teemed with life. Once we roamed there freely hunting that bounty. Now we are spread across the planet in our billions, nature is on the run and our old ways are no more.