Gauteng: Second Chance

Gauteng, your townships' streets rose from the ashes of the devastation of frustrating apartheid legislation. You have been restored, rebuilt, revived, risen up and appeared again. Like a phoenix, with beautiful gold and red plumage. Gauteng. Through all the flames of burning protest, You burnt your physical form to mere dust. While others were mourning your death, and cursing your failures, you, like a mythical bird made your nest of cinnamon, laid your egg of myrrh and rose above all the rest. Gauteng, my province, My burden, my essence My shame, my pride My pain, my joy My everything that is My all that will ever be Love and hate. Gauteng, my home. Everything that makes a home, put together we stand, through the struggles, the pain the ties, the tears that cleanse the pain. To bring forth a smile; A new revelation. Our revolution, where there once was hate. Gauteng, My phoenix Where the good comes with the bad. Where darkness is purged by your glowing spirit. Your blazing fire is how we know that every time, All the time, these caustic wounds from any hateful foe will always break down to ashes. Because we rose from gold and dust, we will rise again like golden dust We will rise once more to beauty golden.