To Ardently, Live — Tulips
A story about a way of living.
I stand on the same ground as you do
but a difference we have in the way we take each step.
I walk cautiously,
always checking left and right before I lift a foot.
It will take several pauses, day and night before each attempt.
I’ve seen people lay them out, traps
Could be, anywhere
Then and there I wondered how could you do it?
To be as light as always, walking in stride
Jumping and running here and there
Chasing for the light rays everywhere
Staring at the window is for safety
but you turned it into a blissful luxury
the effortless painting of a smile
on faces of people who stare to look at you
and much to those who try to understand what you do
Papa said not to open the windows,
never opened them, not once at seventeen
but I did today, I did today at eighteen
to ask, just to ask;
“Don’t you know there are bombs out there? It is dangerous out there!”
You looked at me,
an answer; a wave and a smile
then she did it again, jumping everywhere
Why did I open the windows again?
Can’t tell Papa.
As I face the windows after the sunrise you are there- again
a gesture; “Come here! Come outside!”
I hear no sound yet I know how happy you are to offer
Your hand calls for me
Stiff as the world’s belief, I cannot bring myself to move
a gesture; Continuous shaking of the head
a whisper; “I can’t. Papa said it is dangerous outside.”
Shoulders she shrugged but still,
a smile and a wave, not minding as she played again
Hours after a joyous sight she looked,
a gesture; Stepped back. a bigger wave, and a face of laughter
A greeting must be,
and a possibility of another
“See you again,” best to suit
The sun will rise again tomorrow
but Mama told me every sunrise is different than the previous one
And that there will be days I’d wish not to see how a sun rises again
I could not understand,
A soft tap on my head,
“You’ll come across days like that,” Mama said.
Today,
Today is a day like that
Woke up to look at the window
To my surprise;
Windows and doors are open,
Not like Papa.
Papa and Mama are outside.
People are.
Papa approached me,
“Have you talked to the girl?”
“No.”
“She’s dead. She crossed the bridge this morning.”
Her name is Tulips. She was the same age as me. Learned from Papa she was deaf and mute. People told us that she’s visually impaired too- blurry vision.
Her family hated me. Why wouldn’t they? They all blamed me for her death. They need not, I know I am. I could never blame myself enough for it.
Papa handed me a box the afternoon she died. Turned out she crossed the bridge to leave it close to our house.
I opened the box to see what’s inside;
A bomb detector and a note;
To Ardently, Live — Tulips
“Papa?” I cried.
“I’m sorry Arden. Bear it, bear it for her.” Papa hugged me.
She lacks everything I have but she lived. And she showed me the way for me to live mine too.
Thank you for reading. 🌷
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