Final sum

 

Some things I wished for – a guava tree,

a small, stone fountain on a balcony,

fragrant green herbs plucked fresh out of a pot.

Some wishes came true and the rest did not.

 

A cowrie shell from a faraway coast,

a smooth, round pebble from a river I’ve lost,

feathered clouds, perched birds from some childhood zone.

Some were granted, some had to be foregone. 

 

A blooming trellis – or just one climbing vine

on a porch or pillar that felt somewhat mine

under skies of black pearls, rinsed in starlight.

Some were given easy, some never by right.

 

A painting of a deck with an easy chair.

The final sum of what is, and isn’t, there.

This above is the first part of a triad of 14X3 poems, something I thought would take me away from the doldrums and dismals currently prevailing.  Counting blessings, by any name  including poetry, has a remarkable mood altering ability. 

However, it did bring into focus one of the things that will never be - a trip to catch up with a childhood friend. We've been talking of a reunion of the school expat alumni for years, it's practically impossible for all the stars to align, so widely dispersed we all are now from the origins of our friendship, from Australia through the subcontinent to UK and North America. 

This particular friend had settled in Australia. We caught up on Facebook in the 2010s, we texted and chatted plenty, planned and plotted for a face-to-face meeting. 

Then it happened that I had to go and live in Fiji for a couple years, I was excited because it was only a short flight to go see her. But my own family situation stopped that from materialising. I came back without the much longed for trip.   

Yesterday I got the news that she has passed away. Way too soon. What can one say? The final sum is arbitrary, not open for re-evaluation and not in our individual control. There's no option to give it a pass either. 

Rest in eternal bliss, dear Nalini. We'll catch up on the other side.