Chinook’s Gifts

She arrived right on time
Cradling frosted memories
Trailing bright yellow leaves
Smiling like children do
On their first day of school

She gave me a box
Dusted in last winter’s snow
And in her whistling voice, she asked:
Vas-tu bientôt retourner
Chez toi?

It took a while to hunt down the answer
In the forests of my mind
But hidden behind the half-learned groves
Of Spanish, German, and Mandarin
I found the garden of my childhood

So I picked a bristling green flower
The colour of language class
I brought it to my lips
Bientôt, I managed to whisper
With the ease of ten years ago

I opened up her gift to me
That box full of memories
A flute wrought from silver tears
A script that ends with a semicolon
A notebook full of scribbled worlds

I, the musician, the actress, the writer,
Tucked these gifts away
Into the safest corner of my heart
I blew to her a tearful kiss
Merci pour mon enfance

She caught the kiss in dawn-touched palms
Presses it to a clouded heart
And with her final, faded whisper
She told me to close my eyes

Rest amidst the comforts

Of the mountains and the prairies
Listen to the west wind sing

Sleep now
Knowing you are safe

Wrapped in the arms of home