Pretoria At Half Past Four Poem by Gert Strydom

At half past four
while the civil service employees
are going home
blue-white thunderbolts crash down
while an afternoon shower begins
and the road becomes a skating rink.

Pedestrians run into the shelter of buildings,
the road workers stop their labour
where they are repairing the road,
while the main roads run like small rivers
with water flowing knee deep
and housewives in the suburbs take cover
behind closed doors.

Inside the shelter of a small church
you are peaceful on your knees
while you pray
and a few lost teenagers
sit scared on the back benches
and the banner in the church
proclaims that God saves.

Some light fall radiating white on your face,
while outside lightning bolts are crashing down,
while somewhere in the distance sirens below;
you talk like every other day
with the God of the universe.