I affirm that Zimbabwe is beautiful.
When I sit and bask in the early morning sun
and listen to the birds chirp and chase the fat worm
I breathe in the beauty and let my senses suck it in.
I affirm that Zimbabwe is beautiful.
When I watch the sunset in the golden horizon of a savanna dust
and hear the sound of cow bells tink as they return from pasture
I feel my heart settling into the rest that comes with the end of the day.
I affirm that Zimbabwe is beautiful.
As I watch the children, all covered in the grey of African dust
dance in the silver of a moonlit night.
I silently sing along to their age-old songs of abandon, joy, and celebration.
I affirm that Zimbabwe is beautiful.
As I look at the mother of the motherland gracefully balance a pail of water on her head as she sings a lullaby to her son strapped on her back.
I see strength and love merge.
I affirm that Zimbabwe is beautiful.
As my eyes skim the heights of a majestic mountain shrouded in a hazy mist,
I ponder the mysteries that gave birth to it and the ones that so inhabit it now.
I affirm that Zimbabwe is beautiful.
As I follow a father and his son traverse the breadth of their field with an ox drawn to plough.
I savour the beauty of their coordinated, incessant and spirited whistles as they urge on their oxen.
I affirm that Zimbabwe is beautiful.
As I notice the gusto-filled handshakes and hefty smiles of friendly souls in the marketplace
I am more convinced that humans can really be good to each other
even if it be for no particular reason.
I affirm that Zimbabwe is beautiful.