|Le Morne by Mira Boolell Khushiram|
The light falls aslant on the slope where
folded between the silence of stone,
a hundred footfalls of restless men
mill in fear. Not a trace remains
save the spill of that sand coloured tongue,
and a sudden shadow of a cave;
the crisscrossed trails of hurried escape;
a persistent keening of the waves
a lament formed of sea, rock, terrain
an untamed yen in a twinge of air
a squeeze of breath, and a freefall plunge,
just for a flash and then they are gone.
Yet nothing’s lost in the universe -the yearnings for freedom. Silence. Words.
Today I'm writing to another watercolour from Mira's Mountains of Mauritius series, featuring a different, dramatic perspective of Le Morne Brabant, thank you Mira! I have written about it before in this on-going artistic collaboration of ours. Read about it here. And about the legends of the escaped slaves, or maroons, on this site.