Brighter than a thousand suns, / am become Death. Yet, as atoms split, re-configure, they sometimes moderate to re-arrange the glories in the bud, the splendours in the bush. Under a cleansing Heaven, life re-bIooms, charged and changed through a quiet, latent in that self- propelling spirit, there since our isIands’ birth.
Find us, the children of ancestral soil. Fertile
to the fingers; provides sturdy bread. See how out- stretched arms and legs, taut in mutated greens, bold us together. Our chlorophyll, strong as blood, glows better under mushroom clouds. Redhot rocks cool into semi-browns. Sublime are garden colours, pumping the air we breathe. Neighbours in this frame, I take their comfort into my heart. Spread; re-new.
You abjure incineration. Hope now splices love. Peace conjugates forgiveness. They paint antidotal shapes for pain, for war, to take away their sting. Thank you, Ocampo San. You made me see. Seeing, think. Thinking opened doors. May your tribe increase.
