For Nisha, Trish, Andrew and Elijah
The snow was so quiet,
it ate our footsteps,
and shushed our laughter,
there, on the glacier,
I made a snow ball for the first time.
Up, up, up in the helicopter,
so loud... and the wind...
What an experience!
I remember, I tried to find her,
impossibly searching for her,
so far away, so far below,
even houses and apartment blocks
looked like toys,
do you remember, Andrew?
I lay down and hung my head and shoulders
off the edge of the hang-gliders' launch pad,
and my heart reached out to her, across the suburbs,
out to sea, fruitless but poignant.
The tear welled in my eye, never quite making it out of my grasp,
much like her memory.
Last year it was AC/DC,
And Angus played music too stupefyingly brilliant to describe.
That was a religious experience.
I stood there and rode his genius
to some magical place and, for a wonder,
I was not alone amongst the thousands.
PJ sung Angelene to me,
not to the crowd,
just to me,
And I'd never heard it before
but somehow I was singing along,
that was amazing.
She cast me into that song, like a musical witch,
I was part of that music and knew every word.
...and then at 17:12 on a Sunday in February
our son was born,
and my heart shattered and my tears broke
and flooded my face and left me weak and drained,
the relief that you and he were alive and well
was indescribably sweet and draining,
but I still had the strength to give him his first gift,