The call of my home

I dreamt last of Lobengula
Mzilkazi too
Their spirits linger
In land and sky
They lead me back to you.
The land where I was born
Matters not what its now called
For the soil, the sounds, the smell
And the being
Are my home for ever aye
For longer than history's
Been written
Scratched by Palaeolithic man
Such is the pull of a homeland
The call of the soil to the man.
Let ancients and modern historians
Attempt in whate'er way
They may claim to be able to define it
But 'tis something intangible yea
Unable to define or to espouse
This pull for the heart
This call of the wild
This anointing of man
This naming as one of the tribe
The tribe knows no location
It has a place of its own
No matter where in the world you find them
They each recognise their own
When others laugh and deride me
I'll be at piece within
For wherever in land I do roam
Rhodesia remains my home

Written by Dennis Lewis-Enright 11/09/1999
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© Dennis Lewis-Enright
Reproduction in media of any form is prohibited except with express written permission of the author