The Send-Off

I wait.

Here in the oblong cold friendless place among the lifeless ones, suspended above the ground.

I am not abandoned.

I know love transcends time; the journey from a kingdom far until here pales this dark expanse into nothingness.

So I wait.

If this be the halfway house, desolation, the final blanche that preserves this indebted state before the rich soil is repaid then so be it.

But I shall be led out Into open air where Serene symbols stare the sky And they shall rejoice call my name aloud, declare me a pleasant place in the midst of brothers dread-locked or not.

They shall speak of rest, of labours-seeds I have tended that will grow perhaps to colour history’s treatise black as me.

You are my witness to a journey and a destination that split this cemetery wide open. Jah Rastafari!!

In memory of my schoolmate “Po”, a proud Rastafarian, who for the last time left me as I was when he first met me. Shaken.

Steve J. Wyllie