Phoenix

The early morning breaks
over the cluster of small white homes
shrouded in shadows.

A larger home of wood and iron,
surrounded by a flower garden.
quietly commands the allotment.

At the edges of the homestead
are large mango trees.
In the centre a coconut palm and a Christmas tree.

The Printing Press
with its machinery now still
will whirl into motion soon.

The dogs are rousing
while the calves edge closer
to their mothers standing erect with glazed eyes.

Far from this sacred ground
the city is stirring
plotting machinations for the day.

Here in this ashram
The rhythms of work and prayer
are experiments with truths...

By Devarakshanam Govinden | Email: herbyg@telkomsa.net