Sunday, 19 February 2017

Eight Years

Four years ago I made a little film to get through the difficult February days that still felt so raw. 
It totally absorbed me and helped a lot:
For My Brother

Now another four years have passed! Another February 19th and 20th shuddering across the rift in the fabric of our personal universe.

As always I walk along the beach, empty my thoughts into the waves, listen to them breaking on the stones. 

These words have been in my mind today, found recently on a card designed by artist Freya Ete.
Freya Ete


I tell myself a story, how there was a benevolent tide that night, soothing and comforting. 
Gathering you safely away from the clutches of the demons you fought with. 
Not so much bracing, as embracing. 
Not so much drowning you, as drowning your sorrows.
Gathering the beauty of you.
Gathering with kindness, 
gathering into the warm shining arms of family 
who had passed before, gathering you home. 

I tell myself a story, how you were in the company of the stars above you, guiding and reassuring.
Lighting your way with such a welcoming glow you could never be lost again.
Not so much alone in the dark, as igniting your own spark.
Not so much dying, as flying, high and free.
Knowing the beauty of you.
Knowing how much you were loved,
how love will always be gathered in the folds of the hearts 
you left behind on the shore, keeping you safe.

'All the most beautiful things are gathered by the tide'