Tag: Poem

Namaqualand | Relationships | Value

I heard a beautiful story about a widower who went to Namaqualand following the death of a lover. The trip of mourning, grief and reflection turned out to be so much more than a farewell, as the trip resulted in love found once more. There are times when we think that we have lost love forever; failed relationships and death are amongst the chains we put on our minds and hearts. But sometimes, these events lead you to Namaqualand, where, once you have found peace, you will be presented a bright yellow Namaqualand flower to carry with you for the rest of your life. Think about it: you will break up with every person you go out with, except for one. And even after death, love is not lost. The story was told out of the perspective of sadness for a relationship that withered and had run its course, and the storyteller joked that a Namaqualand flower is waiting for her. And she is absolutely right – there is a Namaqualand flower waiting for her; and she is the Namaqualand flower that someone else has been waiting for. It is through patiently waiting that we will be presented the perfect flower.

Personally, I believe that everything happens for a reason; that we are placed in certain people’s lives for a reason and that certain people are placed in our lives for a reason. Life is a classroom of continuous learning. Most of us have a yearning to spend our lives adventuring with someone like-minded; and God has chosen a Namaqualand flower for each of us. We just need to wait actively, patiently and with content.

It also made me think about a thing that has pressed on my heart for some time now: the fact that we sometimes fall into the trap of finding our value and worth from external sources. Sometimes we define ourselves either consciously or subconsciously by the things of this world. Many times I feel worthy or valuable only when I perform well and when I am praised for my performance. People crave attention and fame – thinking that being a Hollywood star will add to their value or worth as a person. Other people find their worth and value in money – having more than others automatically make them feel superior. Other people crave power – the ability to control and to manipulate outcomes. Most of these things: performance, money and power, aren’t inherently bad things, but we often try to find our value in these things. There is a risk that performance, money and power is the things that we end up living for.

Another subconscious source of value and worth is the value or worth that we think comes from the partners in our relationships. Ultimately, another person can never increase your value as a person. No external source can provide you with value and worth.

So where does your value and worth come from? Your value and worth was deposited inside you when you were created. God had created you with immense value and worth, worth and value that nobody can ever take away from you or tell you that you don’t have. We were all created in the image of God. Meaning that all of us (white, black, Indian, poor, rich, atheist, Muslim, Christian, all 8 billion humans on earth) have an amazing amount of value that emanates from an internal source. Understanding the source of a person’s value is a game changer and it swings open the doors of grace.

God has chosen the perfect Namaqualand flower just for you, long before you were even born. Our Father knows what we need even before we ask for it.



In grief and sadness
We let go of lovers lost
Lovers taken away,
Lovers who walk away


Time and careful reflection
Will point the direction
To a dusty desert where soon
Wild yellow flowers will bloom


It is in the dry and arid dust
Where your flower shoots
Through earth’s tough crust
Shaking off soul’s dusty soot


In truth, a flower has been chosen
Specially for your hand
Until the ends of your days:
A dual light to find your way


Time and peaceful reflection
Will show the direction
To a dusty desert where soon
Wild yellow flowers
Abundantly will bloom
Providing the gift
Of a pre-ordained lover:
A lover for your soul’s Spring



Bright Light

Fall into His grace.

Even though we are in the Light, it might feel as though the shadows are closing in on us, threatening to envelop and extinguish us. “Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?”

Fall into His grace.


Bright Light

It is in the sharp bright light,

When a shadow falls, it frights

As it obscures my vision

That was once crystal clear

Even a slight dim causes plight

Makes me question sight


I yearn to draw near to the Father

Even when a shadow falls, it frights

I yearn to fix my eyes on the Constant

The Father never wavers

When the shadow falls on my face

The Father responds with grace


My knees are scraped and tender

But I could kneel more

My knuckles are white and tired

But I could pray more

My jaw is tight and numb

But I could praise more


It is in the sharp bright light,

When a shadow falls, it frights

I want to hold on to the light

For this is where there is life

Where idols crumble

And the Cross humbles


May 2016 – Francois Hermanus Steyn

Waves and God

Ever wondered why you can stare into the flickering flames of a bushveld fire for hours and hours on end without getting bored?

Ever wondered why you can sit and quietly stare at the ocean, watching wave after relentless wave crashing down and some wistfully lapping onto the shore?


I listened to an interesting conversation during Easter that attempted to answer this phenomenon. In a nutshell it went like this: we, as human beings, are so mesmerized by the flickering flame (not because it gives “life” through the provision of heat or because it cooked the Neanderthal’s food). And we are so mesmerized by the relentless wave (not because of soothing ocean sound), but because of a very simple thing. And that is because no two flames are quite the same. And because no two waves are quite alike.

Think about it: ultimately, we know, deep down in our bones, that we (as individual) are very unique from every other single human being on this earth! I have my own thoughts, trapped in my little tiny scull – and amazingly enough, THAT human being over THERE, also has a myriad of thoughts and feelings and emotions and uniqueness trapped inside his/her body and mind!

So how on earth can I not admire the very uniqueness of the flame. A fire is such a simple thing (Neanderthal simplistic and uncomplicated), and yet at the same time it is such a unique thing! Same goes for waves – some  waves roll in with massive white walls stretching metres into the air, and then, amazingly, some of the waves following the massive waves are tiny waves which we can only laugh at. Not all waves crash onto the shore at the same speed: the intervals between waves varies – it is unpredictable. You get the point – simple, yet so unique. We don’t like predictable things: we yearn adventure and uniqueness! It is because we are so very unique.

The conversation and subsequent thoughts in my brain all converged and pointed to one thing – that God created us into these very unique beings; each with our own thoughts, feelings, desires, callings, faces, eyes, hair.

How amazingly creative is our God not!? How can we ever be bored with life when we have such an amazing Creator at the helm of our lives!?


Waves and God


The waves keep rumbling on,

Growling until they stutter and fall

Against sand: an unreachable barrier

They are relentless, unquenchable warriors

Launching assault after assault, but not prevailing

For they cannot breach the shoreline


Each wave is mesmerizing –

No two waves exactly alike

Like no two human souls are quite alike,

Each wave is made by Creator’s Hand

With uncanny and amazing creativity

With absolute attention to detail: precision


For God is the Creator of ultimate variety

Look around and behold the vast amount

Of uniqueness – billions of human souls

Billions of animals, birds, fish, flora

Billions of grains of sand

Billions of snowflakes

Billions of atoms floating around

Billions of stars


And then you want to convince me

That the universe created itself?


Written by Francois Hermanus Steyn – April 2016

Pipe Dream

Pipe Dream

Come put your feet up weary traveler
Come wipe your glistening brow
Take respite from your toil and trouble
From your banal monotonous life
Step through the whimsical window and
Leave behind your cross and worries
Come look at the wares I offer
The goods, the gods your heart so desire
Let the numbing smoke fill your lungs
The sickly, sweet aroma of your pipe dream
Come enter the maze of your childhood dreams
Removed from all earthly responsibility
This opium is your divine right!
Anything is possible within this dream world
You need but inhale: the smoke, the fire
Let your eyelids fall like pillars of lead

This pipe will be your lullaby
Your escape from reality
And the chains holding you fast

Francois Hermanus Steyn – 2014


I was recently introduced to a youtube channel that took my brain for a joyride. Jason Silva produces a web series called “Shots of Awe” and it is basically the injection of inspiration you need amidst the banality of an 8 to 5 life. The series presents thought-provoking ideas and philosophies and it presents the viewer with a challenge – life is lived at the edge of your comfort zone – human beings are addicted to new things – we are drawn to the aesthetic – we have a insatiable hunger for creativity and the artist’s visions. We  must go out, explore and be inspired by the world. You don’t need to live a perfect life, that’s not the point. The point is to revel in the beauty and the inspiration life provides us.


Shots of awe:





For countless moons this bear has hibernated –

Shackled to the granite floor of his mind,

Unable to find a window, an exit, doorknob

A slave to Western avarice and ideology


Sometimes he sees fleeting,

Haunting images of love lost

Of glinting olive eyes

In muted, starless night

Apathy, indifference had frozen artist within

And had tainted clear eyes with paralysis


In testing voyage the bear has slowly learnt

The difference between wasted loneliness

And the invigorating strength

Of liberating solitude –

He now wakes from his slumber,

Ravenous and with boundless thirst


It is time to shake the burden, the cross

To traverse the edge of complacency’s warmth

To destroy himself in order to transcend

And escape the banalities of mundane life


The bear has been roused

To become the philosopher

To become the voyager

To become the artist reborn


Francois Hermanus Steyn – 2014

Winter Blossom

Winter Blossom

winter blossom
melting my heart
as the chill sets in
around melancholic faces
my face lights up
like a beacon of fire

winter blossom
thawing my heart
I want to touch
petals of finest beauty
my eyes are alive
full of pure desire

winter blossom
flint to my heart
fan the ember
and give me life
but winter lingers
ever longer, cooling fire

oh the irony:
winter blossom
only thrives in snow
the romantic fool
will freeze to death
as he proclaims his
feelings atop
snowy mountain

Francois Hermanus Steyn – May 2013

Orange Flower

Parchment and Ink

I had a conversation the other day that was filled with darkness and light mingled with hope and fear. She used a beautiful expression that grabbed my attention and poet’s heart. One’s story and path can be likened to a book. The myriad of emotions, feelings, hopes, fears and ambitions can be likened to the ink on the pages of your book. The pages can be torn and withered, or crisp and clean without a smudge of ink. But these pages come and go, the darkness and light lives together. I believe that life is one continual chapter, with a bundle of clear and obscure and light and dark overlapping motifs and characters and experiences and revelations and resolutions.


Parchment and Ink

Cold bottle wavers uncertainly –
slowly, I gasp for breath
as the ink of emotion spills.
The ink of fear, ambition, hope.
The cadence of black feather tip
is interrupted with snaking veins.
Hiding my flaws result in smudges,
weathers, withers and blemishes.
It adds a haunting beauty
to the pages of my book:
a uniqueness discernible,
for it is my story, my ink.
I keep my book guarded,
lest the beautiful smears meet light.
I pause.
I unbound leather.
I reset bottle gingerly.
I dip feather and keep on writing.
Keep on writing the chapter of my life.

Francois Hermanus Steyn – January 2013