Frail hands held an ornate silver bowl. “Is it for sale?” I enquired.
Everything else had a price tag. “I have no one to pass it down to and no use for it”
he grumbled. But he clinched it as if it were his life preserver and he was being
tossed about the ocean fighting for his life. His face lit up as he recalled
the seaside town where he and his sweetheart bought and filled the
bowl with seashells. “One day on a seashore so many years ago” he moaned.
As if it were yesterday, his face lit up and he remembered the perfect day.
Towels laid out upon the sand.
Underneath a coconut palm.
Lovers gazing at the sea and each other.
Bringing on a sense of calm.
— Busy minds quickly silenced.
Meditating to shorebird psalms.
Sun-kissed skin soothed —
By the warmth of its healing balm.
Floating away the lovely day.
In a passionate tranquil sea.
Slowly the perfect day started to fade away. —
Flowing shades of coral essence…
Sauntered across the sky.
A panoramic dying day…
Vanished before our eyes.
Crescent moon minister…
Bonfire flames vigil’s light…
Honoring the day’s memories —
Burning well into the night.
His weak hands reached out to give me the bowl. “I want you to have it”
he whispered as a tear flowed from his eye.
“I couldn’t possibly buy it — it means so much to you.” I murmured.
“You took the time to listen to an old man grumble” he replied.
“I don’t need it – I will be with her one day soon” he sighed with a smile.
He stared into the silver bowl — and remembered.
The day a lifetime of love started blooming.
Amongst the tarnish in the bottom of the bowl.
His reflection showed a sunset looming.