Still Life

All the little things that I hold dear
Remain with me because I am here
Conscious despite everything I imbibe
I am the spokesman for my tribe.

A cold winter’s night under a cloudy sky
Some old brown and sausage on the braai
Music swinging in my head
Played by a band that is long dead.

The books I’ve read the movies I’ve seen
Every single place that I’ve ever been
Remains with me because I am here
In retrospect even confusion is clear.

There is still life while the dream is alive
There is still hope while some of us strive.