The air was peculiar, the way that it moved; placidly as it drifted off the water. Standing barefoot on the sand under the multitudinous stars, he watched the dim surf appear from the depths within, roll, crash and submerge once again.
A source of light then caught his attention. A distant flicker. It was as though it called him and he answered its warm call that echoed with the cold breeze with a smile. The closer he got to it, the happier he became. Because he knew that a precious flower sat under the great willow tree of the graveyard down the road.
There she was. In the same place that he finds her every day. The rays of the street lamp reached their hands to her sleeping face. Colours blending; finding their way into the deep wrinkles of her face. Her clothes were stained with exhaustion and her hair flamed with the witness of age.
Her head was framed with vivid flowers that laid upon the tombstone she rested on. Her face was glistening with a wide smile beneath the parched watery trails that flowed from her eyes. As a bitter breeze swept past them, her skin began to shiver as it exchanged kisses with the air. He wanted to give her his warmth, to wipe her tears and to be in his mother’s embrace once again. But that is no longer possible.
He died for one mother and she took him into her womb of soil. Though he loved his country, its womb has become cold and desolate. He longs for his flesh and blood, for his real mother who is the light for the darkness he is immersed in whilst being in his grave. But all he can do is just stand there, reminiscing memories, wishing for resurrection.
Slowly a bank of clouds began to approach, expanding its brisking and billowing body over the earth, folding his two mothers and his gazing body into the depths of a vast thundering body. Enfolding them all within a common flesh, a common sombre now bursting with rain.
The only thing he could provide was his tears as the sky began to cry for his non-existential eyes. Creating a pool of sacred tears that encompassed his tombstone as he stood there reaching for hands that can not be held. His bleak soul embraced her sleeping body; he did not feel any thing but it was enough for him. It was enough to bring him happiness.
He then stood up and whispered. “I love you mother…” but he was met with no answer, no sound, except for the harsh cries of the sky that now become stronger.