‘Til gracious rebirth
Like a gazelle fearing nature’s worst, we set off at speed on tarmac that crumbled near to boiling point. The scent of burning rubbish mixed with humidity stifled the air that surrounded. Banana trees in full maturity flew by not failing to demonstrate their prowess on a road that otherwise only bore dust. Their way of life appeared strange yet my appearance and mannerisms caught their attention like yellow plastered against a black wall. We are surrounded by those alike, more than enough to remind me of who you were.
Back home will remind
us of your presence and love,
for your soul remains.
Huts in the distance, in competition with orange tiled homes as they begin to encroach on the motherland. Palm trees sway in the breeze, cows graze the yellow coloured grass at the mercy of the sun. Skyward, blue envelops all that surrounds as if roles reversed. But for an occasional chirp of a bird or buzz of a beetle, there is silence.
You left far too soon,
your warmth is ever present,
but gone all the same.
It’s been a minute since we last spoke. You have since dissipated in to another kind, where communication is no longer possible. But still, you remain ever present in every step I take and decision I make. I still write about you because here lies an open wound that must be healed. Unfinished business will always rule the roost, but that comes by virtue of the fact that we are never satisfied. I know you are there, somewhere, in a time and place I cannot access. But you are there all the same, and that is sufficient for me to know that everything will all be alright. I’ll stay well, like you always used to say.
Like a bird song you
fluttered through my mind with warmth,
wishing safe passage.
You once graced these fields, now observed. For every chick that pecks, not daring to leave the shadow of its mother, you had an impact. I return to your ancestral home, like a dragonfly I hover in view of the family trees that become more evident with time. Recollections of who you were merge in to muffled speech, though love finds the pertinence to be distinct amongst noise. The sun overhead supervises with warmth, much like you did. Its position is central, allowing for offspring to perpetually shine casting no shadow. Nature’s time has arrived. The cycle of life is such that these moments allow for the sweetest of thought.
For the butterfly
once was a caterpillar,
’til gracious rebirth.