By: Said Leghlid, poet, writer :Dim Light

I approached the light that used to burn ablaze with a nostalgic passionate edge, and I fought the moment with tears, just as I wanted to hold it with hope. I yearned to embrace it, dwell on it, whisper to it, and nurture it.
The mirage shunned my open arms, and replaced the ardent encounter with lights that grew fainter, and shallower. I could no longer see the luminance and the reasons behind my return to witness the glory of life in his eclipsed eyes. Ashes replaced the sparks and the smiles that used to be our twilight of happiness in a world bigger than life, stranger than existence, and dearest to both of us.
I stood there, trying to hold my trembling heart from not shaking the ground, so it would not disturb the peace down below. My lips murmured in agonizing silence: "How could this be real?"
A breeze passed by and never noticed my pain. It slipped into its old possible fleeting ways oblivious and sober to the moment. It has been here before, and will always flow in the direction of hope.
I faded into my grieving self.
Another breeze strolled by, found me still there, alone, gently whispered a faint stroke of existence, and brought me back to the surface...I was no different, I was drowning and agonizing in thoughts just as he drowned under the raging currents that day...
Shallow and docile, inviting, and serene, the creek was clear, crisp and pure. She charted her path along countless trails, and landed on a dastardly legacy with a senseless ubiquitous trepidation.
She displayed an indolent appetite for carefree adventures, just as existence intended. She thread destiny with the patience of nature, and flushed life with sharp piercing jaws that bit the lining of a perfect biological loom.
She overcame unnatural obstacles, frowned at dams, rocks and surrounding woods, and she continued to flow with shameless abundance. Nature intended her to behave that way, and nature prevailed.
Its path lingered below a trestle where the only disturbing moments of peace were ancient diesel trains, occasional squirrels and deer. Life passed by and never looked behind. One more bridge to cross and one step closer to its ultimate destination.
The engines roared to tame the tracks, and moments of oblivion often faded into distant echoes that waned as the tracks shriveled and fell into muted shivering neon.
The creek flowed with powerful elegant beauty, defiant and reckless and worry free. It had no other reason to feel otherwise. Until that day...
I stood there! Where the spirits of two souls approached the serenity of the creek; gazed at the waters that gave life with no grudge and plunged them into another world. Pondered how she took his life with defying fury, eclipsed it with rage, and abated his innocence with amazing upheaval. She unraveled fury into my numbness, and made the doldrums of other life concerns less queasy.
Today was a reminder of a chilling July when I was startled with the news of his drowning. I walked within inches from where it all happened. My heart skipped a beat for the creek, two beats for destiny, three beats for reality, and four beats for how life can change forever.
I looked back and noticed that I walked where my son-s life ended, and my heart started beating like an awkward clock...Tic, tic, tic...In reverse.
Time to go, time to let go... Time to let the breezes of life carry our dreams to their destiny, His was cut short, and mine was a brief encounter with a blossoming beautiful child who lived a full life.
I realized, for the first time, that I was talking to a grave. The other world is for the ones who left early, and those who were here to enchant and mesmerize, even while they linger in eternal physical inertia.
Their spirits, smiles and memories remain behind to remind us that life can still give, even in total darkness, and in total silence.
This world is a very short stroll for the living, only until they join those who saw the end sooner than most. Sooner than he was prepared, and sooner than I ever expected, it was suddenly a day of memories.
I had to see every stride with a sparkle of hope. I have no choice. Something out there can be born, amid ashes, amid all teary eyes, amid broken dreams, and even in the crispiest echoes that turn life’s most treasured moments upside down.
Something, something...