| They say it comes in waves…The swells of Italian voices singing from crowded balconies…
Emergency rooms flooded… Exhaustion comes in waves… Ripples and rumors of businesses going under… The ebb and flow of fortunes lost and found… Greed and corruption continues to surface… The wash of birdsong on the breeze… Magnolia, lilac, jasmine float on air so clean you could swim in it… They say it comes in waves… Waves of silver in my Mother’s uncut hair… My mouth waters from the constant flow of home cooking from the kitchen Heat waves… People crashing the beaches… “Come Hell or high water”… The Silent tide of people drowning alone in crowded wards… Time slips away… Each day flows into the next… They say it comes in waves… Waves through care home windows… Waves to your neighbor across the road… They’ll send the workers back in waves… To force the tide of change… Airwaves swamped… Newsfeed overflowing… Incessant… Unstoppable… Pounding… “It’s the second wave that kills you…” They say it comes in waves… Leaving only waves in its wake… Waves of nausea… Waves of sorrow… Waves of hope… Waves of “what ifs?” and “whys?”… Waves of longing… Riptide…Waves under the waves… Waves of recognition… Waves of Surrender… They say it comes in waves… Aoife Nally May 2020 |
| Aoife Nally… Visual and performance artist of Irish descent living and working in London, UK. Currently grounded in Canada, safe and sound with family. |
The first wave followed by the second. Relentless, unstoppable, bringing with it a multitude of options and realities. Some good , others bad and everything in between.
I like it Aoife. You articulate so well the “waves “that frighten me.
Beautiful words that connect so well with the sea and all it’s power and emotion.