Elements of Love
by
Sarah Starr
(Inspired
by and in memory of Grenfell)
Air
It
snowed the day I wove her golden braids, black ribbons twisting
through her luxurious mane of flax. She held her head proudly, but
sadness curtained her dark eyes. The sky, still grey from soot and
ash held the further surprise of frosted sugar as I led her prettily
from her home.
I
remembered the day my sister had leant over the railings far above
me, her hair the same hue, her laughing eyes obscured from my view.
She enjoyed affecting flight, arms outstretched to that same sky,
then blue as cornflowers and with the promise of endless summer days.
That was when bees had circled the tower in search of nectar and
pollen for their hive. Seeds drifted on silent thermals with only the
birds for company. She saw me way below her and ran inside to meet
me.
Fire
But
soon a dreadful, fateful day exploded. When no rain or snow came
forth to quell the burning tongues that mocked and flailed against
stone and iron. Writhing and crawling higher and higher the fire
broke forth like a raging tornado of destruction. This was to be her
epitaph, terror and hopelessness pitted against an unstoppable
inferno. This was the element of suffocation, of ultimate chaos and
death. There is no comfort knowing she walked the bridge to the next
life with our father.
Water
Memories
reduced to silt were piled into corners of the home. I scraped up
what was left of her books and toys and gently placed them into a
small box. It was months later when I found the courage to set them
into the sea. My fishing boat at the ready, it was with a heavy heart
that I sailed along the Thames, the final journey for the little
things that had afforded her so much bliss. The ocean waters lapped
up those remains, while I was left with only the memory of another
day.
Earth
It
was a day when the snow settled in soft lace over her coffin, making
it seem even more perfect in its simplicity. Then, I backed the
flaxen pony between the shafts and buckled her harness, black ribbons
in her mane and tail. And as I drove the cart snowflakes melted on my
face and mingled with my tears. I watched as she was laid to rest in
the soft earth; her home now, for all of eternity. It was then I
decided to scatter her ashen playthings into the sea. Standing by the
grave I could see her waving to me from her fairy castle. And I knew
I would think of her always with every ebb and flow of my breath,
every dream I had, and how I would forever love her with every fibre
of my being.
Years
later flowers laid claim to her grave, along with the bees and the
birds. My own child gambols through the graveyard and I call to her.
She has the same laugh as my beloved sister and those same laughing
eyes. If there is life beyond death, perhaps I can claim to behold it
now as I watch her grow. And with time I endeavour to teach her the
power of joy and hope, forgiveness and sacrifice, and to open her
heart to love.
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