Transcendental

For Charles Murray
Oormila Vijayakrishnan Prahlad

​
​A crinkled ocean rolls in the distance
a filbert stroke in pigeon blue
spring sun beating down
as I help my elderly friend lay flowers
at the memorial to his beloved wife
who left this world in her prime.

I’m awash in a rush of sonder
as I think of all the souls in repose
in the folds of this sun dappled hill -
the arc of their lives upon the earth
twists and turns of their journeys myriad.

the peace among the gravestones
is peppered with the call and answer
of hidden songbirds
as I watch him gently kiss
the feet of the marble Mary
remembering his soulmate fifty years on
with an intense steadfastness
as fresh as the days of his youth.

I’m suddenly aware of reaching
a probable halfway juncture
in my own sojourn on this earth
and at home, it’s with urgency
that I hold the one that I love
long and close and tender
telling him that he fills my heart.

​and as his eyes promise me
the gift of ceaseless love
I can only hope he will cherish me
with the same fervour and devotion -
that transcendental bond
I glimpsed in bloom today
in the rare heart of my friend
unchanged by the flight of decades
as we kneeled on that tranquil hill
laying flowers on the shimmering marble
overlooking the all-knowing ocean.