Something always sends me back to that town.
I never know what I'm looking for
or why I always take the same road.
There's something in the journey
in seeing the same path ahead of me
only changing for the seasons
it's continuity, it's endurance,
it teaches me great strength.
She died in the fall. Now autumn leaves
cover the gravestone.
That October I planted seeds in the grass
surrounding you
pink peonies brought themselves to live life
two years later
it is as though they knew a grieving period
could only bring me acceptance.
I too, had to develop rooting in my new home
grow my own foliage, of sorts-
to find a way to protect me from the frost.
In those days of cold darkness, where my body
is frozen ice incapable of moving,
waiting to wake up, I would listen
to the last voicemail you left me.
You were by the sea on your morning run,
telling me again, as only you could,
how you loved the winter months closing in on us;
"There's a bright blue sky, the sun so low & hazy
the migrating swallows look like they're chasing its rays,"
you say.
It is those snap shots carrying me
through the days I'm victorious over,
which bring me into blossom.
I remember, nature trusts its processes.
It trusts the seasons bringing change.
It teaches me, again, great strength.
© Sia Jane #76
18/9/15