The oldest man in Awka dies; A son’s tribute
There is this stillness in the air that is the silence of my cries
The easy rustle of the leaves just as consistent as my agony
Does time pass? Is there the bustle of movement? Alas my sorrow…is it solitary?
My face is turned to the past and the present pulls me back; a strong wind.
I see the rubble that is the past I cannot fix
I might reach for hope but it fades just as swiftly as your last breath
I might fight this wind but it gets nearer like the forceful storm that is now my reality
I knew a lifetime with you; the angel of my history
The words that we said were longer than the seconds of a thousand minutes
The laughter that we shared even sweeter than the bass notes of a million drum rolls
The bareness in our love just as simple as dusk will change to dawn
Perhaps the pain I feel is selfish?
It is true, I knew it, but did I believe it?
Always in my knowledge but hardly in conscious thought alas I have been taught once again;
“That all that lives must die, passing through nature unto eternity”
Indeed the oldest man but today he is just my father.
Rest in peace Grandpa.
