|
An apparent failure, the last sessions Of prayer meetings an act of repeated Provocation like someone descending A slippery staircase into a holy river.
Gandhi had seen the light, and his path Its simplicity, the world its complexity, His attire, his few steps back and forth, The witness to what life was all about.
Embracing life, he had spurned the West’s Solution, its civilisation, yet quietly moved In mute defiance of what would turn out To be the life pattern for his people.
Yet, to this day his words remain unchanged And true, and his path that in the grind And groan of industry is witnessed simply As proof of the undying life of God. |
|