When you died I did not know where you had gone. I could not comprehend your absence, the reality of your non-being, or the fact that you would never be coming home again.
I stumbled through the empty rooms and corridors, clutching at the white-washed walls, crouching in dark corners, crying out for you: “Where are you my love? Where are you?”
It’s a question which still troubles and confuses me. And one which I cannot answer. I look for you everywhere. And sometimes I find you.
A stray hair
A white dove
A girl at the beach
A long-legged spider
A song-bird in the morning.
A strange cloud formation drifting over the sea with the faces of angels and cartoon sharks
A pink glowing sunset
A delicate blue flower
A sand beetle toiling heroically through the endless desert in the midday sun.
A lazy cat sleeping in the shaded street.
A hazy mountain which shimmers like a ghost and sometimes vanishes completely and returns in the morning wrapped in a black shroud.
The wind in the courtyard and in the trees and in the bell tower.
Your fingerprints on the window pane.
A cup of tea.
Ten thousand cups of tea
A fried egg roll
These fleeting moments of recognition and remembrance bring you back to me once more. Echoes of eternity reflected in the ephemera of day-to-day life. Each moment at once unique yet played out again and again forever. As if for the first time.
16 July 2019