At the junction of Sea Point
and Three Anchors Bay,
I suffered an unenviable bout
of existential melancholy.
So tired, in the throws
of exhaustion's weary grip
yet so restless as to lack peace.
Neither in the lush Company Gardens,
where the Dutch East India Company
once planted provisions for ships
heading East to Batavia,
Nor in the florid botanical paradise
on the eastern edge of Table Mountain
was I able to find respite.
It was only in the day's passing into night,
in the sun setting resplendently
across the golden horizon,
as the clouds rolled over the Table's edge
and the white sea-capped waves crashed
into the craggy black rocks along
the concrete sea wall
could I finally find peace in stillness.
|From Cape Sunsets|