Animarum

for Sarah, one year after your father passed

BRAVERY and resilience––
both a badge and scar you wear
around in Yamba. You remember

your memories, too, when you
visit them, or they come to you
in the darkness of a golf green,
              or the sunshine of a symphony.

Animarum
by Jonathan Zwartz.
The album of symphonies you
let repeat your tears and later
at Gordon’s Bay, your sunshine.

Anima, meaning soul, spirit, life.
Like you, and dad,
separate souls, spun together in spirit,
a union in this life,
              this death.

Love of love
            comes easy,
                        when it came easy
                                                to him.

Every cry you rinse,
euphoria you dance,
every arm around
people and places and plans
is a symbol, of him, in you.
            A tribute, to him, from you.
                        A celebration, of him, before you.

Last year, this time, your phone rang near midnight.

And as you nodded your head
            when the seas roughed their rough,
            and the moon decided to stay a while,
                        you blinked and saw a figure.
                        He’s watching,
                        and knowing,
                        and loving,
                        proud of how you handled the seas and the moon—
                        how you caressed them in your hands,
                        before gently lowering the phone,
                        to watch, know, and love
                        all that comes before
                        you, and rested
                        before him.

Then you found your roots again.
            Roots were hardest. Trunk solid, but slow.
            Branches of your personhood returned,
            and your crown,
                                      can you see how it shines?

Days dry up,
winters chill,
       the 18th of May comes on the 18th of May.
Hours move years,
spring sounds the autumn,
       the 18th of May comes on the 18th of May.

Alone, behind the cold, outside a home not your own,
when you think all is nothing but despair,
                                                     keep walking
                                           and you’ll
find Love. It’ll come easy.

Because it came easy
to him.