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(25-02-1967 / Springs, South Africa)

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When twilight falls
and shadows stretch like days without end
there is a place in the garden
where I come to rest

while the sun colours the sky
from blue to dove-grey,
the day draws to an end
and the sun changes to a glistening ball
as if its silver enchanted.

Sprinklers spray softly
and the last sunlight
forms little rainbows over the garden
and a cricket has awakened for the night
while a frog bellows,

the birds come home to nest,
shadows grow
as if they have consumed the light
and the fragrance of wet soil fills the air,

the smell of roses is distinct,
angel wings are wavering on the wind
and it's as if God's glory is present
but out of sight;
as if to Him this place is a delight
while I bow my head
in recognition of the sheer beauty that I see.

Submitted: Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, January 23, 2013

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  • Gajanan Mishra (1/23/2013 2:34:00 AM)

    In recognition of the sheer beauty that I see. good poem. thanks.
    I invite you to read my poems and comment.

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