Patterns Of Love

A precious memory of my little sisters, who are now gone.

There is a black and white photograph
Which has captured joy
From long ago
When life's tide ebbed slower
And life's concerns were more gentle
I see them
Scampering around in the sand
Dipping their toes in the lapping waves
Their knees coated in sand
And their hair matted with ocean spray
They are focused, eyes scouring the rock pools and pebbles
And when one of them spies a treasure,
They cry aloud with joy
And hold it aloft for all of us siblings to see
A shell
A small object of wonder
With perfect spirals
And smooth contours
Gleaming white as snow
Yet laced with rich colours meandering through
We gather together, in awe
Before resuming our glorious treasure hunt
Nearbye is the abandoned castle of sand
Which we laboured so long to craft
Before the selfish tide dismantled it
So many wonderful sounds
Gulls hovering
Waiting to steal our spam sandwiches
The reassuring rythym of the gentle waves
Daring us to venture in, above our knees
The taste of sweet rock sticks and ice-cream upon our tongue
The salty fresh air
And the sight of little crabs scuttling through the rock pools.
The warm sun on our little bodies
So calming and familiar
That day, I recall seemed to linger
Along with the joy and excitement
Then, the sun sank low
And wet costumes became a burden
And we trudged wearily back to the caravan
With sand clinging to us
And cheerful chatter ensuing
As we compared the trove we had amassed between us
Those works of art
Those astounding swirling treasures
Each shell unique and precious
Just like the little sisters that I shared the day with
And though time has erased them from this life
They are still with me
For how can I forget such lovely people
No, I will carry them in my mind - in my heart
As I carried the shells in my bucket