The Broken Triangle

By Vusi Moloi © 2011

The genesis like a triangle
To evolve after an angle
We observed geometric rules
Unaware of entrenching tools
Hitherto, a broken triangle
Disconnected despite an angle

When connection they impede
The magnetic must recede
Chastised on Canadian ice like spruced
Beautiful connection was refused
A microscopic mind partitioning
Arrested angle to atrophy
Broken lines were connective
But network prohibitive

Contextual Commentary

The unfaltering desert flower Mponeng hides underground while awaiting the advent of the falling rain. Until the heavens persuade some clouds to burst and pour their hearts out, the flower must remain in the safe hands of the great underground for the coming rain.

The thunderous lightening has already flashed across the heavens to turn a page on the dry season below. The vicarious stallion and great protector was fired up to make the treacherous crossing across the fearsome waterways but the zebra clan remains behind raising questions on the timing of his crossing. The large body of water, like the great Atlantic, is now a fearsome divide between him and the clan. Did the great protector cross prematurely and thus misjudged the crossing? This may very well explain the persistence of the dry season in the great Kalahari which puts him at the mercy of the harsh circumstances because there is no going back after the crossing.

However, the positive energy of the African soil is endless. The brilliant red sand of the Kalahari dances beautifully in the musical wind currents of the heavens while the electric heartstrings of the Kalahari vibrate energetically as if under a gentle plucking by the heavens. Her heartstrings are like the masterful kora strings of West Africa which trigger a trance response in the heart of the great protector as he contemplates the crushing dry season below. Such an activist energy, which cannot be scientifically accounted for, refuses to be interjected by the harsh events on the ground as attested by the apparent transcendence of the desert spirits. The desert flower is oblivious to such convivial ambience and thus unable to relish the momentous enjoyment because she remains underground listening intently for the coming rain. While the desert sands shift and dance endlessly under the infusion of the red disco colors of the heavens, the flower’s patience is wearing thin as she religiously listens for the slightest signs of the falling rain. Is the much awaited rain coming soon? Who knows when that shall be?
The Indomitable Mongoose, by Vusi Moloi © 2010, Canada.