You are my Africa...
Burnt orange and crimson splashes across the canvas of the sky.....
Africa, I see you.
The call of the wild echoes through the night.....
Africa, I hear you.
Your sweet fruits and plentiful bounty.....
Africa, I taste you.
The dust rises over the Leopard Hills bush
as I walk through your undiscovered country.....
Africa, I feel you.
Part of my soul remains with you once I am gone.....
Africa, I am you.
You are my Africa, Africa of my soul.
-a poem left on our pillows at Leopard Hills
