The City/The Beach (04/02)

I curl myself into a ball, my limbs curling around each other, protecting my torso. Through my tightly clenched eyelids I see my body mimic the spiral of my favourite seashell.

Secure in spiral form, I remember the beach. I feel the sand on my feet, in between my toes, on my calves and in my hair as I lie beneath the low tree. I can feel the spots of heat on my skin where the sun pokes through the foliage. I can smell the salt in the air and hear the waves ever so gently lapping at the shore.

The bird calls come next, each one taking me further and further away from this city and closer to that beach.

This city

Where you swam in the

Sea of my belly.

That beach

Where I knew you belonged

The moment I saw it.

The city

Where you were created.

The beach

Where I let your ashes go.

I spent most days at that beach, I’ll never forget the feeling of being there. Nature, in all its overwhelming beauty. Wild orchids and humming birds, palm tree branches dancing in the breeze. The heat of the sun and the rocking of the waves as I floated above coral and fishes and clams and all the breathtaking beauty of this world. I floated for hours each time, so addictive was that feeling.

I wonder if that’s what you felt, what we all feel, in the womb. I hope so. I hope you felt as warm and free and safe and soothed in my womb ocean. There were times when it was a little choppy, I know. Storms raged a few times for both of us Jamil.

I returned you to nature.

Wind and Water,

Fire and Earth.

I returned you to the sea so that you might always be in beauty, where you belong.

So that you can see all the beauty of this world, always.

All the beauty that you helped me see again.