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They lied, it’s never was the movement of the clock that produces the newness of life; “Mind.”

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Manage episode 313350498 series 3267588
Inhalt bereitgestellt von Ashani Thomas. Alle Podcast-Inhalte, einschließlich Episoden, Grafiken und Podcast-Beschreibungen, werden direkt von Ashani Thomas oder seinem Podcast-Plattformpartner hochgeladen und bereitgestellt. Wenn Sie glauben, dass jemand Ihr urheberrechtlich geschütztes Werk ohne Ihre Erlaubnis nutzt, können Sie dem hier beschriebenen Verfahren folgen https://de.player.fm/legal.
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7TZXHV-0Dr944qNZd0Y-ug Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ashanidthomas/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ashanidthomas/ APRIL 13, 2017 BY WAYNEVISSER First People Tribute to the San Bushmen of Africa First people of this ancient land Last exiles in the desert sand To you we owe our destiny Our struggle to be wild and free We call you Hunter, Bushman, San You sowed the seeds of primal Man A gentler race we have not known See how your legacy has grown For millennia you lived in peace In harmony with nature’s beasts With tools of sinew, wood and stone And crafts of egg-shell, quill and bone Hunting game and digging roots Tapping trees and plucking fruits Night theatre around dancing fires Click singing under starry skies You chose the way of archers’ bow Of hunters’ grace – the art of flow: To give and take and see the whole To honour life and feed the soul You felt the weather in your bones And sensed earth’s subtle undertones You heard the stars whisper ‘tsau! tsau!’ And rode the wind, we know not how The landscape generations trod Recalls to us your Mantis god Windswept by myths and scattered tales Told and retold on dusty trails Then came the time of racial blight A target for both black and white The hunter became hunted prey Pre-dawning your extinction day You were the masters of the hunt But progress left your arrows blunt And tracking skills that reigned supreme Are all but lost in history’s stream Yet even now your soul still breathes On cave walls and in rocky cleaves In ochre, charcoal, mud and lime Your gallery now transcends time We see you smile in every face Whose eyes reflect that ancient place In wrinkled elders old as earth Whose wisdom joins us with our birth First people of this ancient land If we could only understand Your ancient ways still hold the key To setting ourselves truly free --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/ashani-thomas/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/ashani-thomas/support
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47 Episoden

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iconTeilen
 
Manage episode 313350498 series 3267588
Inhalt bereitgestellt von Ashani Thomas. Alle Podcast-Inhalte, einschließlich Episoden, Grafiken und Podcast-Beschreibungen, werden direkt von Ashani Thomas oder seinem Podcast-Plattformpartner hochgeladen und bereitgestellt. Wenn Sie glauben, dass jemand Ihr urheberrechtlich geschütztes Werk ohne Ihre Erlaubnis nutzt, können Sie dem hier beschriebenen Verfahren folgen https://de.player.fm/legal.
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7TZXHV-0Dr944qNZd0Y-ug Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ashanidthomas/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ashanidthomas/ APRIL 13, 2017 BY WAYNEVISSER First People Tribute to the San Bushmen of Africa First people of this ancient land Last exiles in the desert sand To you we owe our destiny Our struggle to be wild and free We call you Hunter, Bushman, San You sowed the seeds of primal Man A gentler race we have not known See how your legacy has grown For millennia you lived in peace In harmony with nature’s beasts With tools of sinew, wood and stone And crafts of egg-shell, quill and bone Hunting game and digging roots Tapping trees and plucking fruits Night theatre around dancing fires Click singing under starry skies You chose the way of archers’ bow Of hunters’ grace – the art of flow: To give and take and see the whole To honour life and feed the soul You felt the weather in your bones And sensed earth’s subtle undertones You heard the stars whisper ‘tsau! tsau!’ And rode the wind, we know not how The landscape generations trod Recalls to us your Mantis god Windswept by myths and scattered tales Told and retold on dusty trails Then came the time of racial blight A target for both black and white The hunter became hunted prey Pre-dawning your extinction day You were the masters of the hunt But progress left your arrows blunt And tracking skills that reigned supreme Are all but lost in history’s stream Yet even now your soul still breathes On cave walls and in rocky cleaves In ochre, charcoal, mud and lime Your gallery now transcends time We see you smile in every face Whose eyes reflect that ancient place In wrinkled elders old as earth Whose wisdom joins us with our birth First people of this ancient land If we could only understand Your ancient ways still hold the key To setting ourselves truly free --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/ashani-thomas/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/ashani-thomas/support
  continue reading

47 Episoden

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