When I Blink
Belize, Gracelyn Abel
The quiet dulls the colors
Of a world freshly rich and new
Being alone, with clarity to feel
I think of you
I wonder what you’d see
If you existed in the same space
Would the river be the same green
How would you see this place
If I close my eyes, I’m home
The foreign buzz, part of a dream
Whispers of palm leaves sound
Like your voice speaking to me.
Replacing the heat of the sun
Is the heat of the blush on my cheek
When I’m reminded of the many times
Your kiss is mistaken for the breeze
It takes some convincing
For the leaf litter beneath my feet
To become the needles we tread on
Walking in the rain
And the running water of the jungle
Echoes the song of the stream
In the park where you dipped
My body in the bottom of the creek
When I turn to chase your fleaing self
I flick my eyes open to view
A tree’s roots anchored for an eon
Instead of you.
I’m happy to be home
If only when I blink
Gracelyn Abel is a student of life as well as academia, currently getting her bachelors in Sustainable Food and Bioenergy systems. When she’s not attempting to dismantle the broken global food system, she is drinking coffee, sun soaking, plant pondering, or snacking on some fresh vegetables. She recently finished producing the short documentary The Butterfly Effect, soon to be featured at a film festival near you! Follow her on Instagram here!
Photography by Gracelyn Abel