Painting the softness of your skin in the kitchen.
Leaning mirrors and sweet milky tea assisting reflections.
Shoulder bag on the table, its waits patiently for its destination.
Walking in our own footsteps of yesterday and today
Facing each other ascending escalators in Kilburn Park Tube.
Chatting and nattering of family stuff.
Again I’m a child with you.
At your side clutching carrier bags, cutting lines into our fingers.
Hunting for treasure in charity shops.
Sifting through leather bags and books we relish the past when nan was with us.
Thoughts of those gone, pull towards sending light and we return to Quex Road Church.
Spirituality gifted and shared where Aunties and Uncles Wed and we prayed for the dead.
Baptised, my first Holy Communion, every Sunday we spent there.
Whispers of ‘the sacred heart’
Warm fingers stroke cold solid stone in a comfort for his wounds.
A mothers love carved and crafted by an artists hand.
Sharing a silence and alone we stand.
I choke as I am consumed by your compassion, selfless love and care.
Candles lit and sit releasing energy and light.
‘One for you Damien’
We light and recite loved ones gone.
Daddy , Declan, Mary, Tony, Michael, Nan, Peter, Anton
Chinking clinking pennies drop into the collection box.
Collectively we pray and it’s the closest we’ll ever be to you and the past.
Memories together enshrined to last.
Back to life and back to reality.
Cups of tea and burgers on the journey home.
The simplest things of extreme value to me.
I am a child again but grown.
Let the candles burn and never end.
May your light be bright and forever send ; in Kilburn
Where you taught me to love.
Damien Arness-Dalton

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