A letter to my little giants
I returned from a great holiday in Ghana a few days ago to 2 of my plants withered. It would be audacious of me to blame them for flirting with Winter whilst I was living in high spirits with Summer. How selfish of me not to have made any attempt to quench their thirst whilst I was away. Now here I am, grieving their demise.
Dear Persistence and Gold,
I can’t believe I’m writing this. I’m trying to believe it is all a dream.
But as I reach out my hand to grab your diapers, all I can feel is how you’ve wasted away into dust. Well, Gold would have made me a lot of cash if only he could live up to his name in this state.
Hmmmmmm
You both have me here musing about how to collect my words as I collect your final remains
You’ve burdened me with the task of explaining to Resilience why you no longer chose to persist
But instead dashed out your hands to embrace life’s finality date
And here I was, hoping you would stay just a little longer
As I was planning to get you and Debonair a little sister
Tell me, how must I stay resilient and go for gold with persistence, when you’ve chosen to walk out of the door with no regard for my tears.
Oh wait!
Yes! I admit I walked out instead
But I remember leaving a note that I wasn’t going to be away for too long
In return, you chose the warmth of Winter’s cuddles, and let her suck the soul out of your roots
Now I am at Boots, combing every rack to tranquillise the pain from many nights of deprived sleep because you chose to give up on me
I wish I lived in forever
So our bond wouldn’t have any other morning hymn but Mali Music’s conqueror
Is it too hard a thing to ask to build castles in the sky whilst I still have roots in you?
Now you leave me with leaves as granules I have to give out as feed soon
Your chairs are still empty at the dining table, when will you be coming for dinner?
I wish I wasn’t writing this right now
Because all I can see and feel is Winter staring at me through the window; laughing in the midst of my grief — hitherto effulgence.
Indeed, defeat is tasteless when you’re not the butler serving the day’s special dish.
Regardless, I’ll collect my myself and also collect you
I’ll save the memories we had in jars of clay
As I bid the sun goodbye and make space for the moon
So if you see this or hear Angel Gabriel reading you this love letter,
It is my way of saying thank you for making me a vulnerable Father
To all these people who don’t even understand the words I’m trying to utter.
That’s fine. You may be gone but your memories will forever remain hither.
Love, Dad
You can watch the video interpretation here.