Family life

Last December my family went out several times to eat out with the kids.

These are the times that make memories for families and I can say that families are important people in my life.  I have learnt that in African Spirituality, family goes together with your ancestors. It's a simple equation. Ancestors' assistance is directly proportional to how you keep your family. If your family looks after each other and makes sure to look after the family that came before them and the future family...its good karma.

I am an art teacher and whenever the small cousins come..its what we do...and bake ofcourse!

I find myself at 3

I am finding it hard to forget you.
The scent of your hand hasn't faded yet...I'm still waiting four spirit to reclaim the last of it.
I haven't forgotten you standing close behind me, hugging me, your arms around me.
Content. Satisfied.
How your hands seemed to belong with mine.
They used to find mine and hug them so gently.
Late morning. My nose would find the smell of breakfast with your face in line for the day's first kiss.
Why is it that these things never erase themselves and require so much effort to temporarily disappear?
All our small moments have collided into un-erasable data...stone masoned onto my fresh, biological heart.

shaivite

When love presents itself: we fold
When love finds us: we hide
When love is in front of us: we undress it.

Love sprouted within me when I saw you.  Nothing mattered in that moment, not the looks I got for even looking at you at that theatre. When I saw you something inside me opened up, like when Peter Pan finds his magick.  Something lifted off me and I found myself in a place where everything made sense even though outside my bubble it would not.

I saw you how I wanted to see you.  Bare with no gender.  You were you and I was me.  In that moment you were flawless, beyond measure.

In a funny way it felt like you had concubines at your sides, when I look back now, I could have said they had been. We played things cool in our conversation, from my side anyway, and made a move by exchanging numbers.

I left in a daze not understanding what happened to me:  You had already happened and I hadn't known.  The time between that moment at the theatre passed. Someone made a call, the other accepted a friend request and I caught a taxi to see you.
Without a thought about anything realistic, I knew I had to see you.  I knew something was up with me, but I didn't know what.  The thought of you made me blush: I didn't even have time to catch myself.
"Yes, I'm by the garage.  (Big smile). I see you".
I notice you, but no-one else.
We walk to your house, meet everyone and relax in the cottage.

If you asked me the most nervous time I had with you: this was it.
Do you like me?  When would you tell me?  Should I show you that I like you?

I never even thought you if had someone special in your life. I didn't care. You were mine. I was sure the universe had approved and sent you, why else would we be here?

I never left.

In the days that followed we talked.  We reasoned with love to let us in slowly, to let us be human, gentle.  Moments after we couldn't tear ourselves away from the other.  I had often counted my hours on this planet, since then...I have been counting my moments. For it was you that I spent long, lazy Sundays where I slowly learnt that love meant getting up a little before the other. We slept, walked and made love.

When love presents itself: I will not fold
When love finds us: I will not hide
When love is in front of me: I will wash its feet with waters from flowers.

This and that and some English

I've finding things to do these days....getting a job, studying for my TEFL and just random good things. My good things are crazy to some people...my favourite activities definitely include drinking tea. I look forward to sundowners with tea, reading a book anywhere, chatting with people I haven't seen in a while.  I have been looking and definitely finding. Last week I found that if I don't meditate, I can't super focus. Things like that.  I found myself looking at my poems/words in my phone.

The one I keep looking at:

Shiva loves and dies in ashes

Shiva loves and dies in ashes every time you look at me.
Shiva loves and dies in ashes when we greet.
Shiva loves and dies in ashes when we speak, afraid to address what concerns us the most.
Shiva loves and dies in ashes in our silences and the lines between them.
Shiva loves and dies in ashes of faded henna.  Right between the pumpkin spinach and basmati.  We let the moments go, our moments of touch. Lips. Neck. Back. Breasts. Skin. Toes. We lived the moments before thinking them. They have become a faded memory that we think only happened in each others thoughts.
Only when we see each other do we remember our downfalls.  I have failed love's memory with you.

I haven't forgotten you but you have moved forward.


B.R