A BOY FROM EMMAUS
A MEMOIR
Start the flow of oxygen
Pull the mask towards you
Place it firmly over your nose and mouth
And breathe
Sorrow is our grindstone, our teacher
Wearing us down to thin reeds
Then we can dance in the water with muddy feet of faith
Sustained by wind
By whisper
By tiny weeny victories
You were there
Didn’t our hearts burn
Comforted by companionship
A Road trip
Then running back
Running til we were out of breath
Heaving
Breathing
Damn it
“I am an Artist”
Gold plated mop and bucket
My art?
Mystery teases knowledge
Where kindness became the healer
Smashing Fear
Seeing not seeing
And didn’t our hearts burn
I dreamt you came back
I was laying down in Victory Square
On a grain-fed mattress
This time I knew you straight away
