Nan

House, face, voice, heart, all bigger than a mountain
All is you. cup of tea. slice of cake!
Your family are close. your achievements many.

Promises were always honoured and lies told with the best of intentions to our parents who were stuck with the sticky problem of raising us you came like friendly ice, Dripping glacial water on top of a rocky mountain
over rocks smooth and craggy, into crevices
drunk by birds, animals, insects, the land itself.
By inhabitants local and visiting-
sweet water sustained all.

What will happen when the glacier is gone
To those who inhabit the grass, the hills, the mountain?

Much will live on through the water table so richly endowed -the moss holding on tight as we drink of you living and breathing indefinitely.
(Made of Snow and Ice and teeming with life and word and deed)
I drink the water through a hollowed out reed.
And it nourishes and pleases me.
All is you and you know me from the water flowing on the cool rocks and the wildlife teeming below.
The passage of the sun marks out a less demanding climb so I eschew it favor of something special. So off I go.To the top of the hill where the stream begins I peer at the flow knowing that some secrets will remain hidden. This sad thought is washed away under the crystal clear flow of water of knowledge gained through a life well lived that I can only hope to emulate.

I know what I want to do now. The confusion has passed.

I return to run my fingers into the flow and cup my hands as so and drink, drink and let the rest go.

A nan like you I have never known.

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Published by Andrew Mark Watkins

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