free-falling

on Monday we went for a coffee,
we both had news
-- theirs brought tears to my eyes
(mine did not, not now, not then)

to make the decision
to end an unborn life
reclaimed invalid, unsustainable

I'd never wished them such fate!
but I'm not Stoaic enough to wish it had been us

we hadn't talked for 5 months
so I got both stories at once,
one of expectance
and one of hopes crushed

I still see his searching eyes
I remember his trembling hands
I cherish his lasting humour

and I'm more afraid than ever
afraid of What If
-- I fear though we have not even reached the point
of having something to fear for
of having the greatest thing to hope for
of having hope

sitting there
in the cafe -- with the table between us
as good friends -- with nothing between us
estrangered by experience -- with a deep, dark gap between us
and after tonight,
after a conversation of another sort
my fears feel so petty

I'm afraid to fall;
I doubt anyone will catch me
but look!
they fell and they catched each other

music

out of unavoidable innate kindness, once again,
I did a favour not expecting one in return;
I gave my time,
I changed my plans (no, I put them aside)

and as I was finally driving through the city alone,
three hours later than planned:
I was called
I was touched
-- I was flying

I turned on the radio
...and it played his song

the apt theme,
the anthem of thanks,
the multiple memory

it's in moments like these I believe
that it's possible for me to heal

see, it's in moments like these I'm reminded
of what I have
!so much I have!

moments
forever mine

goodbye Little One

my Little One is gone
fell asleep in the afternoon heat

I had her with me for seven years

they'll lay her to rest under a tree,
near to the lakeside

they said they took some pictures of her sleeping,
I'm undecided yet
whether I want to see them when I get home

home...
so much has happened without me there
that I wonder
whether it is my home anymore
or yet another place to adjust to?

from afar

2006 by now:

friends fallen ill
loved-ones hurt
milestones reached
buildings burnt
concerts held
recordings made
competitions won
introductions made

and I wasn't there

all I've done is grown my hair long

oh yes, and taken a set of photographs
I'll look at them and look back
-- such a price to pay for a set of photographs

there must be a lesson to learn in this,
but so far I doubt I have learnt more than longing
which I already knew so well

8-year sneak

To bring me back to that night we call The Beginning.
--------

it was August 3rd, around midnight I guess
(though we lost track of time)
no more of those vail-covered summer skies
but greenish black with ash grey moon.
the day had been warm and lit

now others scattered around the big house;
some still putzing around, lazily preparing for the next day
groups of giggly girls leaning over shared sinks,
brushing their teeth in their cuty pajamas
groups of boys drooping over sofas, eating popcorn,
bursting into laughter once in a while
cameras flashing, e-mail addresses exchanged

we snuck out to the back porch
where the woods reach out to the house like a friendly hand
to an unexpecting yet welcoming shoulder

only two weeks before had she asked to get in
and of course, was accepted
"we always need another pair of helping hands!"
-- but she was there because of me

for me

he came out to have a smoke,
so we decided to move away,
following the path in the moonlight
we came to the rocks

I remember the sea being calm
I remember the wind being still and awaiting
I remember feeling chilly in a few hours' time
I remember wearing a white, comfortably worn knit
and green khaki pants
oh yes, and the heavy, clumsy shoes I liked so much
I have no recollection of what she was wearing
perhaps she does?
I'll ask her

lying on a rock,
side to side, arm to shoulder, hand to hip
staring through the sky with glazed, bewildered eyes
sensing as much as could bare

everything was new
like today
8 years later and we're still sneaking away in the night,
feeling the excitement,
in our hearts carrying the thrill
wild and restlessly beautiful
like a moth flickers around the lantern

August is the beginning of the harvest season