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