Tao of the Dassie (Camps Bay)

At Bakoven, the dassies huddle tight, awaiting the sun's early rays
on round rocks like elephant backs in the shallow sea —
the round rocks that twelve have bestowed upon them;

Unpretentious, stretched in the moment, where room abounds
and they need not steal each other's sun —
on the round rocks that twelve have bestowed upon them;

Shiny green grass, pink figs, and yellow wildflowers,
growing in sandy crevices —
from the round rocks that twelve have bestowed upon them;

And among the froth that swirls like cirrus clouds above the tide,
drift sea bamboo like thousands of basking dassies —
glinting bodies amidst the great round rocks, twelve have bestowed upon them;

Neither the black oyster catcher, screaming in swift flight,
nor the thronging crowd of sun-seekers, trying to snap a digital moment,
can disturb their quiet satori as they count the blessings of twelve.