Purple skies - crying eyes
Dancing willy-willy flying
Wind howling voice of doom
Land cracked, bloody-maroon

Pregnant clouds spat lightning sheets
Women cannot feed with shrivelled teats
Elders lift hands to skies; ask for rain
We thirst, we hunger, no more pain

Silence, wind dies, dust to ground
Plops of rain pounding sound
Tribe frightened, they bow down
Faces in dust, peaceful town

A mighty voice from the rains
You are my children, break your chains
Have faith and be still, ride the drought
Of life, you will not go without