Manatita is an esteemed author living in London, UK. He writes spiritual books, flash fiction and esoteric poetry, his favourite genre.
Recently, I mentioned my brother, who worked several years for the American military and later for the Government in surveillance. Today, July 4th, is a fitting day for my sister’s turn, who lived and passed in Houston, Texas, in March, this year. She was 56.
My sister was an amazing soul of tremendous courage and a Spirit of selfless service. She was a journalist, an entrepreneur, and ran a successful Driving School. She also started up a restaurant but had to sell, due to the progression of her illness. I have written a tribute poem in Memoriam.
She gave me an elbow
I looked at her lovingly, as the flames of holiness
Shone deeply in her eyes. She was soon to be in transition,
But gave me an elbow of discernment, and what I received
For speaking my mystic truth of the inner journey; of
The immortality of the soul, was increased a thousand-fold!
I remembered her smile, her jokes, her deep
Affection as we held hands; her tenderness of Love.
She admired me immensely! Perhaps God had spoken
To her soul which whispered of the sweetness we felt
For each other. She was not one for church, but her
Life was a prayer of sacrifice; of soulful self-giving, a
Drum-major bedecked in the sweet merits of Paradise.
I remembered our culinary treats of crab and callaloo,
Oil-down breadfruit, roti and goat and yes, I remembered
Her wit; how she liked company and loved to laugh! Heaven
Had drenched her in its beauty, adorned her in honey of the
Most precious kind; gave her a life of dauntless courage.
I remembered when we walked through the corridors
Of the State-of-the-Art- MD Anderson; the phone call
From the Consultant who said that she was almost at
The end of her earthly happiness. We spoke, discussed life
And she said that she was ready for the hospice, ready to
Go home; to return to the glories of heaven.
From Zoom, I gaze around the bed where she is lying. She’s
Lost much weight and her face is like dark clouds.
Her feet are like charcoal and she’s kept going by the long
Oxygen tubing attached to her nasal orifices. She’s surrounded
By her children and family and the mood is sombre, silent; tearful.
The morphine has kicked in, but she’s mercifully aware.
And I remembered … our times in Austin, lost in the
Diversity of myriad colours, of when we strolled along the river,
With success and failure tossed into the turbulence of her tides,
Like tornados do to the whistling willow, their two interwoven
Imposter-friends, called victory and defeat, still dancing on her forehead.
Now I’m glad that she’s been finally taken away,
From the venom of toxic therapies, even though
Thankful that they had mercifully extended her time,
Lessened her afflictions for another eight years. Yet
She was young, made all the more sacred but poignant,
Reverent, as she passed, God’s Grace, on her 56th birthday.
Ultimately, we swing on a game fashioned by
Love’s Pendulum, always in motion, liked a prudent
River, flooding its banks as necessary, taking the
Sediments of our lives with it; preening the mental weeds
Before finally arriving, into the Ocean of the great Unknown.
Heavy rain falls and the ground becomes damp, yet the grass
Will grow green; shooting stars dance with the constellations.
Silently weaving their celestial splendour, they will laugh with
Moonlight and whisper sweet tales of reverence to Orion.
Today heaven called and even as she walked, hand
In hand with Love, angels rejoiced, while the trumpets
Blew symphonies in ancestral Jerusalem. My younger sister
Gave me an elbow, saying it was ok, that she understood; that
The pearly gates were ready for her arrival, and she was going Home.
- Manatita, The Lantern Carrier. 4th July, 2021.
© 2021 manatita44