We walk to the corner where I know we will part, where you will launch like a new shoot for its own possibilities, 800 kilometres away.
Through the air and across mountains we will trek, for our next enrichment of dinner and wine.
I walk a step in front of you, my head stooped to the dark pavement of the laneway that is barely lit by dim, shop lights. The darkness hides my brewing tears, and the inevitable.
A tram rattles by on the main street we approach. I glance up to see people sitting inside like soldiers of blades of grass, journeying to their own place.
Taxi’s too, hum on the roadside as they wait for a passenger to add life to their insides so they can make their way somewhere.
Although I walk that step ahead, I know we walk side by side as friends forever.
We grew together as fresh green buds of sweet peas, dancing into the sun to blossom in our myriad shades of reds and pinks.
And we entwined into one another when much support was needed to endure pelting rains and high winds. We knew the strength of that truss between us.
Today, we’re becoming the cacti that grow slowly, full of succulence and life, cacti that are strong and resilient, able to face any tough conditions ahead.
We arrive at that corner and these staunch cacti must say a good-bye that feels forever. I barely utter a word before the brewing bubbles of this cacti are too much, and they flow to infect your eyes too.
I know we will bloom in more shades of colours in our own patch of earth, and where we will survive droughts and floods with a determination that may sometimes test us. But our foundation of past leaning, where neither of us led nor followed, will see us through.
We will continue to mature together as we brave all of life, albeit, a few kilometres apart.
Cacti maturing in exquisite flowering, side-by-side.
“Don’t walk behind me; I may not lead. Don’t walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.” ~ Albert Camus