A mountain whisper

At dusk, rain threatened.

A soft musky fragrance of incense curled from the mosque on Signal Hill.

Beyond the mosque, just down the path where everyone walks or runs,

hidden in the fynbos, is a scattering of kramats.

This place is where six or seven Islamic wise men and teachers

have been buried for centuries.

Some kramats are ornate, some just marked by stones,

but all covered with a fabric chadar,

pilgrims’ sign of devotion and reverence.

Over here all the kramats are also surrounded by fynbos -

rose-scenting pelargoniums, imphepho, wild rosemary.

On this day rain drops down on the chadars,

mist covers the pine trees and the big mountain slowly disappears.

As-salam alaykum. Peace be upon you, whispers the mountain.

And it does.

Rain drops  on the chadar.