(for Daleen)
Recollection comes alive
in the spring while the roses do flower
when I see you coming near to bushes of daisies
with your hair white blonde in the early morning light,
grace and great wonder is on your face
and you are digging in a small flowerbed,
with the ground in your fingers you are speechless
as in your thoughts you are busy with a small cosmos.
Later when the redbreast outside in the rain does dance and sing,
the thunder does draw blue-white lines in the garden,
you do smell the rain falling on the fertile red-brown earth
the presence of God comes to you as a suggestion
where He is covering the whole planet with both of His hands,
does give life, tries to lead everybody away from the eternal abyss.
© Gert Strydom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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