Mothers' Day in the Night

And I did fly a kite while waiting for the wind. It was an unmoon night but the darkness was pierced by souls searching a new home. I was alone with myself, and my kite had a string which stretched as the kite left me behind.

And I recalled names without faces, and faces without goodbyes. Train stations, high seas and dry deserts. Names that swirled around me waiting for the night wind. Large cities, unshaved men, women with no children. Those who stayed because they could not leave. Those who left because others stayed. Like my kite.

The night was filled with the Arbequina olive trees’ exhale. It is a very unique aroma when the night is dark like Spanish eyebrows, through which eyes look at the names swirling around. And a steady hand gently finds the string to keep the kite away.

I was alone with myself yet lost in the silence of the unmoon night. I secretly recalled the sound peasant bread makes when still warm and crusty. And how pleasant to my lips it becomes after a soft touch of olive oil.

So I did not invite all the faces without goodbyes and all the names without a face to break that bread with me. On my back, I started counting the piercings in the dark cover. I knew it will be a while till my count is complete, but the bread was still warm and my kite still pulling from afar.

… It is Mothers’ Day in North America and one of bright dots in the dark cover has a name I know. And a face.

So I let my kite’s sting go. It is a shame to tie down a kite.

May 10, 2020

©Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2020

I took this photo when the moon and Venus were closest or "Moon conjunct Venus". The conjunction represents harmony.