Sept 43

Last night was grandpa's birthday.
My day's had a contemplative air to it,
each of us preparing in separate rooms.
I wore my grandma's pearl earrings and
thought about all the years she spent doing
exactly what I was mimicking.

She'd push her hair aside
gently guiding the pearl's post
to the perforation in her
fleshy lobes.
Up from beneath the mess of hair
tousled about her head
grandmother would slide the
metal back onto the post.

The drive over was jovial
and we all remembered grandpa.
My father shared stories,
anecdotes of his youth which
we all already knew, but had
not thought
about since last year
and will only remember again in a year
as we quietly note changes.
The mist about gave
the breeze a refreshing
briskness and the
earth smells fresh as we walk
over the ferrule land.

The house looked the same as it had the year before. Father drew the door open, a billow of dust rose from the floor, as it met the crisp air from outside and the two mixed until there was merely a sienna light spread about. Walking in the foray, we could see the living and dining rooms, as static as ever. All the furniture sat in its final resting place, the paintings still hung like relics, cobwebs had grown so thick that the corners of doors were no longer square but now had taken on an Arabic air. Our faith in returning each year has held that place frozen and yet our habit alone has transformed its appearance, inside and out. I have never questioned the tradition, my family respects where it came from; really the temple has to exist for the spirit to dwell within reach.

We began the annual celebration,
the ritual procession obliging us to
ascend the aging staircase,
to visit all the rooms, and
in each to give thanks to the
ancestors.
Old gifts are replaced by new ones,
ebbing and flowing the fullness of
our shoulder bags.
When the sacred satchels
were filled we descended.
At the foot of the stairs
our shrine lay,
crowded with reverence.
My brother and I place the items
among the pile; Father laid out
candles forming a cross.
I diligently lit each,
working my way to the top
where my dad and brother
wait
we say goodbye,
suddenly the room flashes
sharp sounds emanate from
all recesses of the house and
everything recedes.

The smoky candles waved
we sent our love and respectfully bowed out.
Father locked the door, we depart
leaving the house to the elements.