Treasure Hunting Poem by Angela Bontle Ditumiso

It was night
Tears were nigh
But we still gathered the strength
To count the stars

It was dark
It was bleak
The future was a wasteland
But we talked about gardens
Flourishing with flowers

There's beauty lurking
In the night
When everything good has spilt
And there no hope
When it reveals itself
We call it dawn

Life can be a hailstorm
Hitting you all over
Leaving you black and blue
But the same life can be calm
Whispering a breeze in the smallest voice
Be patient for when that happens