The elegance of working quietly

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Lumepa Apelu

Take a lesson, break her back and hear the whining of flowers from the noise in your head. Seems we think we are above many things. But listen, gently, the wind is a carrier of secrets. It knows your every stubborn way. 

If there is a bucket beneath your feet, there would be plenty ego silly notions in it. And we know what sour stench comes from such a clumsy filled defeat. The ego is a promise to worse things ahead.

What we can use instead, is our nose for kinder things. Water the soil, yes feed a plant. Insulting the earth is not our calling but we do it anyway. What human being has no sins? I know, but I won’t say. He is asking by his life example, that he not be named either. He is the face of all the men, women and children who died in vain. 

What proud kind of people are we if we are so blind to the needs of the lowly? The powerful things we make and do, what use are they? What king or queen sings out loud of a majestic being when the little children can hardly stand on their feet?

But tickle your fancy as I play a soft tune, in these words of pain. If all our tears had a space, it would be in the middle of the volcano where our islands began. Whence we said that our gods came from the sky and inside a hell deep in the blue, our eyes meet here between me and you. The warm senses we have are pointless if we do not use them to shelter the cold. 

Of our mundane work, are you tired of hearing the foolishness of office pride splattered along the roads we make? Would you not rather that daily work be done in quiet? If these things we must do are bragged about, then what love is left to nurture them? The tasks we are given, should not be held on pedestals.

Other than paying the bills, they are duties, meant to be filled with humility. The elegance of our touch is held by angels in there. 

But this life continues without our say no matter what. And when the sun finally sets on us, may I take your hand and lead you into a dance. The lovely life we live is a maze. It is a journey we live and leave alone; an unspoiled space for you and for me, to make something of.

As the days are shorter than the nights, may you live in a full moon and I, a star next to the child who left me behind.

© Samoa Observer 2016

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