If home is where the heart is then my heart growls like a starving lion.
Hungry for life.
And it soars like the elegant and endangered blue crane across stagnant pools.
Searching for somewhere to nest.
And it beats along to tribal rhythms, wild and primitive.
And causes my spirit to dance like a wildfire.
If home is where the heart is the my heart is one of gold.
It glistens and glows and beats hot and cold.
And is wrought through sweat, blood and tears.
Never a victim to envious fears.
My strongest asset it is.
If home is where the heart is, then my heart cries like a legion of Zulu warriors.
Its battle cries heard over centuries of adversity.
It is heard the loudest in the land of the Zulu.
If home is where the heart is , my heart races with the speed of the cheetah.
And causes my spirit to ever chase my dreams with speed and accuracy.
And it leaps like the Springbok, forever in motion to escape adversity.
If home is where the heart is, my heart beats for South Africa.