The Unforgotten Birth of Life

Lingering hours are delicate and prolonged, flickering like the remnant sparks of fire. Burnt embers glow, alighting the pistils of lilly flowers, scattered across the planks of the wooden jetty. The unforgotten birth of life flashes on and off, a chorus in the passing days, vibrating deep within Gurain's soul.

The flowers were once clutched in Gurain's trembling hands as she lay upon this jetty. It was a bouquet, composed of pink lillies, whose life pollen sparked liked stars across the atmosphere. They were a gift for a miraculous, loving moment that has permanently etched its presence in Gurain's heart.

Gurain still feels the warm syncopation of her heart beat with the little life that she nursed in her arms. She breathes in the sweet scent of Celeste, who gurgled with a wondrous, beautiful presence. A precious life that she treasured with her heart and soul.

One day, in still frame, Gurain stood, silently etched as an onlooker, as her husband, Tyrone's boat departed from the jetty. Heart racing, she clung to the wooden logged handrail, balancing herself. The water propelled wildly in the unrelenting blasts of wind. Cresting and crashing with such acute torment, the waves lead Tyrone away. Many months passed and he did not return to Gurain.

Through the wild water, Gurain still inhales the sharp, shaky breaths of Tyrone's existence. She envisions his firm footprints pressing deeply, leaving his manic mark across the undulating sandy floor of the sea. Half naked, his torso would glisten with drops of water as he began to swim, pressing further forward and cutting through the myriad of pastel coral into the darker mood of the sea. Gazing around him nervously, Tyrone would gingerly press further forward, swallowed by the uncertainty of a dark, tormented shadow.

In his rediscovery, Gurain knows that Tyrone is still lost. His spirit calls to her and her familiarity, reaching out to her across the vast depths of the sea.

In the stark silence of remnant air, Gurain attempts to breathe. Her fingers grip the jetty handrail so tightly, she sears her skin, crying in pain. Drops of her blood drip across the wooden planks, setting the pistils of the lilly flowers alight in a blaze.

Gurain's body is weak with fatigue and her lips are parched. Turning to face the fire, she exhales an exhausted breath of sorrow, watching it drift across the boiling breeze. It is a deep sadness that has consumed her, rendering her being incapable of standing without aid. Time has continued to press on, yet her pain is still acute and immediate.

In loss, Gurain determines, one is restless. A body is spent and desperately attempting to stay afloat in the whirlpool of disorientation. To feel loss is to lose trust and security; to wade with no direction; to disconnect and to allow the voice of loneliness to lure you in its wake. It is a distance which swallows you, like the dark shadow underwater. It plays with your mind, reassuring you that you can go solo, that you have the strength to overcome the pain ... alone.

The void across the sea is extraordinarily large. a breadth that not even fire could reach. Digging underneath the sea's waves would not bring any relief. Tyrone's abandonment screams its long drawn tension across the abyss. The unrelenting weight of loss pulls Gurain down onto planked floor. She does not know how she feels, as her emotions smother her, rising and falling within her like giant waves.

Mesmerised by the roaring flame, a tight smile allows itself to slowly form across Gurain's lips. In this fire, there is wake, there is life. The pier is her chosen home now, the only place that she feels comfortable to be. She knows she can still reach out here, to attempt to locate and reconnect, if Tyrone wishes to.

Amidst all the chaos of loss, Gurain had sought the familiarity of routine. Each day, her steps voluntarily shuffled across the pier of her soul. The very setting that she had lay upon and given birth to ... Celeste. What beautiful, glowing blue eyes her daughter had and clutching, soft fingers, that had set Gurain's heart soaring with love.

Tyrone appeared, etched with the aura of contentment. In his hands, he clutched a bouquet of lillies, fresh picked from their garden at home. He presented them to Gurain, sharing his gratitude for their miracle. A father he was, to a beautiful daughter, that he wrapped in his arms. It is a vivid memory, that still shimmers with life each time Gurain revisits the pier.

Closing her eyes, Gurain attunes herself to the cackling of the fire. It calls to her, luring her to awaken, to rise. Eyelids fluttering open, Gurain wills herself to stand. The sound of Celeste's happy giggles encircle her, setting Gurain's heart racing with warmth.

Opening up her arms, Gurain steps forward and embraces Celeste's memory with her heart and soul.