By Lindiwe Ndlovu
The winds of change brew under perfect blue skies
Goosebumps on shivering skin, oh.. how time flies.
The chilly hue of a cold sunset lingers by…
It, makes its presence known.
Like the rumbling of thunder
Or lightning honed.
Or fires crackling while stories are told.
So ancient are these traditions.
Laughs exchanged in togetherness
Echoes to a long forgotten wilderness.
Stories of ancient queens linger on the lips of little ones
Stories told for a million suns
Stories told of how…