Memory Walked

A Memory Walked

A memory walked.

We started together up the hill.

Two and two

Father and daughter

Discussing problems of far away cities.

Mother and son

Singing and making funny noises.

Lilikoi became soccer balls.

The father walked backwards

In small steps up the hill

And the son caught him

For just a moment.

All together

A meditation from the grassy top

Of the ocean’s distant heart

Sitting on the coffee farm’s edge.

A memory walked.

We started together down the road.

Pennies in the gravel

Promised infinite wealth.

Fallen wormy  mangos

Filled pockets

Unprepared for sticky spheres.

The father’s pace lengthened.

We laughed and tried to leapfrog him

To take the lead.

But soon his long steps

Took him around the bend

And he crossed the highway

While we watched for

Traffic on the other side.

A memory walked.

We started together up the trail.

Roots made stair steps

And castles for beetles.

Tree trunks covered their bark

 in coast of moss,

protection from a misty rain.

The trail rose and twisted like  a bronco

shaking the rider from his back.

The father turned a corner up ahead

And we were left

To create our own joy

Seeing beauty everywhere,

Sharing alone.

  

A memory walked.

We started together through the forest.

Bamboo stalks built a cathedral above

And with the wind

Played a hymn.

A wooden path zigged and zagged

With the mystery of a “who done it.”

Leading on

any steps that chose to dance

To the ballet that the breeze designed.

The leaves whispered.

The bamboo played the marimba.

Time and the heart stopped.

The Father had zigged

Then zagged out of sight.

Was he still in the bamboo catherdral?