Little Truths

Bianca day II mauri 067

Gris-Gris is well known for its sea cliff. This part of the island is not surrounded by coral reefs. Thick waves crash directly on the cliffs. The most spectacular part of Gris-gris is the “Roche Qui Pleure” where the constant squashing of waves against the flanks of the cliff gives the impression that the cliff is crying.

 

 

I see heads bobbing prettily all around me. 
Like hot air balloons that are tied to a string. 
Appearing carefree and floating and weightless
But they never really take off from the ground.
 
I see people fraternizing at communal festivities
Like dancers pirouetting rapturous on a stage
They seem graceful and blissful and euphoric
But it is a choreographed happiness.
 
I see humans flying all over a shrunken world
Like migratory birds with multiple entry visas
They appear unshackled and blithe and winged
But gravity pulls them down ever so often.
 
I see hands being held adoringly everyday
Like an inseparable bond between iron and magnet
They appear steadfast and enamored and devoted
But there is a deathly silent rust setting in. 
 
I see friendships being discovered in a second
Like glittering diamonds in a coal mine
And they are feted and treasured and coveted
Though the market is flooded with fakes. 
 
I see life going past in the slow motion of a movie
Like a lethargic snail counting little paces
It is plodding and dawdling and sluggish
Yet surprisingly it is over before you have even begun.

 

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