What is it that our souls are searching for?

Reality grappling at our feet
as we climb Makanaskop –
begging for more money.

And the oppressive fingers give way to oppressive mounds;
fingers turned to branches.

Soon it is the stone and twigs that crunch
and grapple at our feet,
heralding our arrival.

Shale, nature’s unworthy stalactite,
carves the name
and very essence of the Eastern Cape.

Where the lay lines lie,
and biomes coalesce in syzergy,
and anthropocentrism is dwarfed
by the very length and breadth of Gaia,
eRhini.