Finally, by the sea

Finally, by the sea, where God is everywhere, I gradually calmed. I stood looking at the sky. The clouds were the colors of a Raphael. A wounded rose. I had the sensation he had painted it himself. You will know him. You will know his hand. These words came to me and I knew I would one day see a sky drawn by Robert´s hand.

Words came and then a melody. I carried my moccasins and waded the water's edge. I had transfigured the twisted aspects of my grief and spread them out as a shining cloth, a memorial song for Robert. It was a wistful little song that conjured the color of his eyes. I sang the words over and over to myself so I wouldn't forget them. Within weeks i would sing it at his memorial service in the Whitney Museum of Art, where we had dreamed one day of showing our work and where I watched him pensively smoke a cigarette from its trapezoidal window.

Flocks of gull gathered above me. The blue hour was fast approaching.

In he distance i hear a call, the voices of my children. They ran toward me. In this stretch of timelessness, I stopped. I suddenly saw him, his green eyes, his dark locks. I hear his voice above the gulls, the childish laughter, and the roar of waves.

Smile for me, Patti, as I am smiling for you.

Just Kids, Patti Smith, Ed. Bloomsbury