An immediate memory
Like last night’s dream
Utterances are words whispered
Gray vapour across the Appalachian sky
A simple melody
Like the creek behind the cabin
An indulgence of senses
Like a cardinal on blue grass
The notes from a clarinet
Floating in the Easterly wind
Bring the gospel of compassion
From the mountains to the heart
Life passes like clouds across the tropical sky
The days come and go like a whisper in the wind
A storm roars in from the ocean with thunder laughing
The leaves whistle a melody in the trade winds
The stars cry across the sky
And as the world dances across my memories
Just for a moment, it stops
There you are.
Ahhh yes, it is a great day to stay home from work. Come, sit with me, out in the sunshine, listen to the waves, smell the salt in the air. Close your eyes, feel the cool trade winds brush against your skin. Smell the aroma of wild flowers as the wind bounce of the hilltop and back out to sea. Listen to the clinging of ice as thirsty tourists raises they glasses of guava juice, or is it pineapple juice. Hear the sound of the lone calypsonian strumming on his guitar somewhere on the beach. Listen to the roof of the stray hut whistle, watch the coconut tress sway, hear the sound of sails flapping in a gust of wind. Feel the coolness of Mango juice run down your throat. Yes, perfect day to brush of work, perfect day to just sit and let the sun soak in.
Ahhh yes, sitting on the verandah overlooking the village. Listening to the birds chirp in the trees at the side of the house. Hear the voices of children playing somewhere in a yard. The bray of a donkey, the encouragement of a farmer as he tries to get the animal to keep going. Take a ship from the glass of orange juice, listen to the clinging of the ice that floated in it. Shiver a little as the early morning breeze whistles through the house. The trees sounding like the ocean washing ashore as the gust sweeps through them. Watch the ice glisten in the glass as the sun seeps through the thick leaves of the mango tree, just for a second. Close your eyes, but there is no darkness as the sun beats down on your face. Its the weekend, another tropical weekend, Nothing to do but lay back and enjoy.
Welcome to the frozen tundra, where mother nature have not sympathy for the tropical transplants. Sixteen degrees of pure skin numbing wind, slipping and sliding. So cold one can walk on water. My only escape is in my head, letting my imagination run away with me
Ahhh I can feel the warmth. Sometimes letting one’s imagination run a marathon is the best medicine.
Some mornings, its great to wake up to the land covered with snow, the sky shining silver gray. Open your window and feel the blast of cold air bounce off your skin. Step outside and feel the snow crunch under your feet. Shovel the snow into a small mountain and climb onto it and pretend you have just conquered Mount Everest. Exhale and watch the mist fade into the sky. Ahh yes, some mornings, a blast of cold air can remind you that you are alive and can enjoy feeling alive.
Yes man, after a good, spicy plate of oil down for lunch, you can go to the beach, Grand Anse beach that is, and lay in the sun and feel that heat seep through you, hugging you real hard like grandma right after a church service. Then you shiver a little as the wind sprinkles you with the spray from a crashing wave. You close you eyes as the sound of the local steelband is practicing in the village. Ohhhh yes, its paradise time me people.