How is a Man?

HOW IS A MAN?

How is a man
When he stands alone
When his body stands alone
And naked in the wind
And the wind blows through him …?

How is a man
When he lies with a woman
When he lies on her breast
And breathes her sweetness
And the wind blows through him …?

                                    The wind is a bird . . .
                                    It has no nest . . .
                                    It finds no peace . . .
                                    No rest . . .

How is a man
When his dream falls away
When the road leads nowhere
And his youth is gone
And the wind blows through him …?

How is a man
When he stands in the wind
When he leans against the wind
And breathes its sweetness
And the wind blows through him …?

                                    The wind is a bird . . .
                                    It has no nest . . .
                                    It finds no peace . . .
                                    No rest . . .

Is there a place
Where a man may lay his head
If a man may lay his head
And find his rest?

And is there a place
Where the wind is still
Or must the wind-bird fly
Where he will …?























                                     There’s a dark sky full of empty
                                     There’s a black wind blowing slow
                                     There’s a long road going nowhere
                                     Where can a man go?

                                     There’s a dark sky full of empty
                                     There’s a black wind blowing slow
                                     There’s a long road going nowhere
                                     Where can a man go?

Where can a man go?
Where can a man go?
Where can a man go?
Where can a man go?


Wrestling The Angel

WRESTLING THE ANGEL

I leave my clothes behind - go to the outside of town
I leave my clothes behind - go to the outside of town
Gonna find me an angel, wrestle that angel down

I’ve got blood and wine in my veins, my mind is pure and strong
I’ve got blood and wine in my veins, my mind is pure and strong
Gonna to find me an angel, wrestle the whole night long

He’ll say, ‘I’m not of this world son, you got to let me be.’
He’ll say, ‘I’m not of this world son, you got to let me be.’
I’ll say, ‘I won’t release you until you go bless me.’

I leave my clothes behind, go to the outside of town
Gonna leave my clothes behind, go to the outside of town
Gonna find me that angel, wrestle the whole night long
Gonna find me that angel, wrestle that angel down -
Wrestle that angel down.

  • Barbara Fairhead

Kunene River

KUNENE RIVER

This is a land surrounded by silence
Naked as a bone
A land of brutal beauty
Wind blown

A ribbon of sudden green
Red sand
Kunene River
Desert land

A ribbon of sudden green
Red sand
Kunene River
Desert land

KUNENE RIVER
The Kunene River, the only Namibian river to reach the sea, forms the boundary between the Skeleton Coast and Angola.
There is something almost mythical about a river in the desert: particularly this desert with its thousands of mile upon mile of nothing but sand.
Nothing prepares you for the emotional impact of finding this ribbon of green sliding like a serpent through desert. After hours of dry heat and sand and hot dry wind, the sight of water is startling.
There is something about the utter indifference of the desert, and the silence: something about the river’s timelessness that transports me to a place inside myself; a place I call ‘the river beneath the river’.

  • Barbara Fairhead

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