Saffron Robes

I dreamt of saffron robes floating gently on water

Calm, smooth, soothing

Unruffled by the winds, unwavering against the waves

But saffron robes are on fire

Fire, they scream

As they run for cover

Trying to douse it first with clean water, then anything their flailing hands can grab

But the heat is growing

And smoke is swirling like an old man’s beard across the skies

Through the towns and into the villages

A fiery language that no one understands pounds the hot misty air

As the mighty dragon in saffron robes exhales

Yellow, orange and then red

As red as the rubies in its eyes

It stamps across the town in anger, waving its head, breathing fire

The saffron robes flying and flapping this way and that, fanning the flames

The city is now burning, grey ashes crumble

I wake up from my dream

of saffron robes floating gently in clear water

Encircling me in kindness, tolerance and maitri

I open my eyes and my world is on fire

A strong, engulfing, saffron-coloured fire

By Himangi Jayasundere