To my fellow Afrika Burners - a poem for you all

I miss my Burning Family so much. You have crept deep into my heart.

I want to share a poem with you

The Pulse of Fire

from this wild dance i stumble over my feet

the wild energy

still clinging around my calves

i tiptoe guardedly with

the pulse of fire that pumps firelight through my veins

it can only be fertile fire

that is so alive

and colours my blood red-hot

so that I can look out over the plains

like newly fired clay

and feel decades of survive

beating through my blood

the fever of the will charges through the flaming tunnels

with an insistent rhythmica

it reforms my feet into

primitive pulsations of dance

that flames over the skin of earth

tautly strung muscles tremble ritualistically

like resonating songs over vocal chord and plains

yes, indeed! fire's captured energy knows no equal

fire speaks in one language

that all clay and skin fathom without cerebrality

it is the embrace of fire

that teaches us to love

it is the unrest of fire

that teaches us to know no peace

unquenchable phrases of fire

siss steam sing

fired body is now alone,

in her vitrified melancholy,

so fiercely alone

photo: Francois le Roux