This Day in 1941

This day so many years ago
when saffron flowed
to green
and cross and crescent
entwined in natural bliss,
you my mother
and he for ever,
discovered love
in my country.

Today the Bishops in Gandhi's land
are weeping,
for Christ's love they say
cannot be shackled
it must be shared.

While in cold steel's cruel town
so near where I was born,
incinerators burn
and children die
in the desert Prophet's name,
and Rama the gentle squirrel king,

But you blessed father
I remember,
the shade of our house
was softer glowing;
for in our blood
the black stone of Abraham
with Aryavartas forest orange flame
and shepherd cross of Nazareth
by sacred Jordan's side,
will live
in love and light
my moments of sightless night.