The Plains Part 1

The climb was gentle As the rose Caressed by the bee. The blue hills From whence come these waters Range on either side of us Guarding the ancient secrets Of the vast plains Touching this lake here And those far away To the right and south. How the plains love each other! Whether rich with grass Or richer with wheat They gently merge into each other And lose their greyness To the hills further away Than the eye can see. Those that love not the plains Have no love of their own! Each plain with a cloud of its own Sailing by and shading the plain From the harshness of the sun And occasionally floating away Into the hills beyond To return charged with rain. The plains are pregnant with memory: They will tell you of invasions From beyond the hills Via the pass to your right Where the iron snake Made its lasting appearance; They will tell you How, long ago, The invaders stood stunned As the earth heaved And the plains sunk To beyond a spear throw. The plains thanked their god And flourished with growth. They spread endless And sealed a vow To share the shores of the lakes. In later years the plains Summoned subterranean force And Mt Longonot stood guard Should the invaders return. These things we saw As we descended into lovely grassland Where cows are in calf All the year round And milk never wanting.