A prose poem and a watercolor I painted as I process the loss of my laokik father, visiting the beach where he spent so many happy days:
Bright red rose petals surprise me, peeking out from the dark matted seaweed, drying on the beach.
Only a few days ago, we stood at the edge of the water, looking out on the still bay at sunset. Flinging magnificent roses, many red and one white, from the funeral arrangements, one by one into the gently lapping waves, chanting a sanskrit hymn of offering and release.
Tonight, I slide the kayak into the water, shallow at low tide. The sun has turned fiery pink as it settles towards the tree lined horizon. I head out into the waves, salt air blowing softly on my face.