
Echoes in the ashes

Sparks lightening the obscurity
as the wind whispers in the fire
The smoke slowly drifts away
and curls around the forest edge
Large logs burnt down to ashes
dispensing a sustained scent
how do I know the smell of firewood
from miles away but could not set
my mind on the fragrance of your aftershave
how do I recognise the pepper and pine tree scent of your kitchen soap
but could not revive the smell of your clothes
Time has robbed me of your smell
Time has robbed me of who you used to be
A lively fire blazing through the night
spreading its enthusiasm for all to see
Voices join in its exhuberant dance
singing the hymns of old, partaking
with those who have come before
in witnessing goodness and faithfulness
why are the thank yous of our Persian cashier so clearly remembered,
when yours are but a vague memory
how come is the deep voice of your southern housemate as vivid in my head
but your intonations have faded away
Time has robbed me of your voice
Time has robbed me of who you used to be
Reverberations of vivid reds,
yellows, oranges and blues
Revealing the intricacies and complexities
of a burning fire in the dark of night
In constant movement and yet
motionless in a space and time
why do I remember so clearly the exact dents
on the front wheels’ rings of your car,
how come is the shape of your left thumb nail
imprinted on my mind, when I no longer
manage to revive a global view of you?
Time has robbed me of your appearance
Time has robbed me of who you used to be
But time cannot take your contentment face away,
nor the absence in your eyes when deep in thought,
time cannot erase the rictus in your smile
nor the biting of your lips when dancing awkwardly,
nor your wide opened mouth when
mimicking surprise
All these living memories are like a pleasing aroma
Burnt on the altar of the past
for the sake of the present,
as obediently I look at the future
with love placed forward,
as a living sacrifice