In the dark corridors of memory,
I see a phosphorescence, a luminescence…
as if all my ores of the past come shining back at me
If a radiance clothes a memory as if its darkness
was a beauty, itself, to explore with an old lamplight!
I am charged like a particle that emits its own ions
of fragrant love, like love is a fountain in a cavern
that is no subterranean world but, on a fluff-cloud,
where the markers of antique ancestry are all over you!
And, in this love, I reflect, I genuflect…I am emptied of
Illusion, sheared off fantasy and then, grow a lion mane of faith!
And who draws the lines of my physicality, my mentality, my emotionality, my spirituality
that glow like beads of perspiration of my life, with inspiration.
Dad’s voice coming at me like a lucky love amulet; Mum’s voice
embracing me like an ensconcing cradle. Thus, encumbered am I
to feel that all bequeathed to me is so nectarine, so ambrosial…
that I have no appetite anymore for the rudiments of this worn-out life,
That all there is, is a longing for the home that is the womb of my birth
Mum, Dad with their humongous love, and all of the ancestral trees in my front yard!
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