A sonnet on the transition from a war-torn past to a future of oil, art, and Luanda’s energy.
The Kalandula Falls in thunder leap,
To drench the forest in a silver veil,
While Luanda’s lights their modern vigil keep,
Above the harbors where the tankers sail.
The soil is rich with oil and diamonds' fire,
But richer still the soul that survived the night,
To lift the nation from the rusted wire,
And walk together toward a steady light.
The Semba rhythm heals the olden scars,
As dancers move with grace upon the floor,
Under the gaze of southern, silent stars,
That watch the waves upon the Benguela shore.
From Cabinda to the Cunene’s sand,
A phoenix rises in a gifted land.
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