and so about the afterlife
I say to him, you see
my mum and I are standing at opposite ends, she
not able to imagine that we
who think and feel
– her voice just like frail hands against a heavy door –
might be no more
whereas I
well I struggle
even to believe that we are

so he says
it depends on our perception of time
then tells me about past holidays
when he was feeling sad
the silver sands of Morar
still dazzling white a corner of his soul
a magnificent bruise in his memory’s flesh

but I
am drifting away, floating
on a sea of darkness
thin as an old page on which the ink
swallowed the light

the world’s heartbeat is faint
which used to touch my cheek

with eyes that saw the sun
and ears burnt by the wind
with words pale and fickle
is easier to fathom
than nothingness

against obscurity
a garden only stands

today among the thorn
watchful blackbirds anew
were building a nest


10 thoughts on “and so about the afterlife

  1. A frog is surely a tadpole in the afterlife: but hard work getting there! I’m sure tadpoles know all about growing pains; imagine the emotion when you find legs sprouting, your smart tail disappearing. What is the essential ‘you’ or ‘I’ that will blossom into frogdom?

    Liked by 1 person

        1. Nous sortons aussi peu que possible, mais l’inquiétude grandit quant aux conséquences de tout ceci (un peu d’espoir, aussi, mais pas trop). Prends soin de toi aussi, j’espère que tes garçons vont bien.


            1. Oh, pardon, je t’imaginais en mère de garçons ! 🙂 Maintenant je me demande si mon système va réussir à se mettre à jour ou si je vais refaire la même erreur… 😅

              Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s