Wednesday, August 3, 2016

Chrysogonus #3 - Qing Ming, 2016

Qing Ming, 2016

my grandfather
chose not to lie
down under
the earth
after his death

he wanted
a final dance
with the spirits
of fire
turning into ashes
not dirt

we scattered
what remained of him
in the ocean

we sent him off
on an eternal voyage

on the calm foam
he floats – napping

after the fierce swirls
from raging tides, from storms

observing a thousand coastlines
carried by breezes

he flirts with sunbathing seagulls
who follow intercontinental
cruise ships

he is the water
ascending into the cloud
and pouring back as rain

in the water that we drink
in the fish that we eat
in the salt that we pour

he is there

he is here

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