It has taken me this long to explain what happened, the epic journey that lead us to this point lead us to be believe it will be one to remember. But I don’t remember much, between the crying and the calls that left us open, the sun generously giving way to the clouds made me realise that angels were preparing a bed for him.
It was a very hot morning in July, we set out on this spiral journey that soon spun out of control because what started as a collective soon left one injured, even though we have been trekking for miles now the air was filled with laughter. Our lungs rejecting air still the aroma of laughter filled the space only God could. The first day is always the hardest so today we will dine like royalty, feast like a king, clothed like beggars, rejoice amongst friends, mend the broken and sleep like babies under the eminent dark blue sky, with nothing to guide us but the stars, we hope is our gone so soon watching over us, and called it home.
It was a very hot morning in July, because what started as a collective soon left one for dead. goodbyes are always soon to come, I have never understood a simple ‘I will see you later’ to have more than one definition. A prodigal son, except this time as the sun goes down, he never manages to find his way back home,
It was a hot afternoon in July, we shall lie here, under the bright sky with nothing but clouds as our blanket to shield us from the harsh reality, rest still the weak become strong and able, the starved still no more, thirst quenched, to continue on lifting our feet far away up from the ground and our eyes unto the heavens.
Walked several miles through the earth now, second days are always as hard as the first.
Seemed like a good idea at the time, till the air broke up with his lungs, showed blue as his true colours, and made sounds I could only describe as him tendering in his resignation of life. I cannot stand here and tell you what done it, cause it’s all still remains a blur!
The sounds of wailing breaking through the silence around me, guided shivers down my spine, I remember not shedding a tear, I’m not heartless I cried internally but never could find a bucket big enough to contain the tears I would render long enough for me to acknowledge that I have grieved.
So later that day in July, when the sun cloaked out for the day and little starring lights to guide us home,we walk, we rode, and we flew across the seven oceans to finally arrive back where we belong for the epic journey that lead us to this point, will be one to remember because what started as a collective soon spun out of control and left one never to be forgotten.