Poems of Loving

The Messenger

You announced your arrival
on a day pre-loaded with drama
in a month surprised by blizzards.
You waved a red flag that day,
finishing with a fireworks display.
Then silence.
Well hidden, you waited for me to find you,
to risk the perilous journey.
I hesitated, wishing your silence to mean departure,
worrying about the well-intentioned precipices
I could so easily fall down.
This was not a journey to take on my own.
I engaged sherpas for reassurance,
expecting to find your campsite abandoned,
the embers of your fire cold, ash.
But there you were.
Nestled against the wall, like a cuckoo in a thrush’s nest,
you looked me in the eye and waved.
An avalanche shook the ground.
You called to me but the wind stole your words –
something about now,
something about self love.
I’m waiting for a crack in the blizzard
so I can hear it all.

About this poem: in February 2018, a look inside my bladder revealed a sea anenome-like tumour sitting on a stalk rising from the smooth bladder wall. Must be a message for me there.