mja blog

As a quieter person, I sometimes find my thoughts moving more slowly than the conversation around me. This little poem is a reflection on those moments, and on the memory of my dad, who had a quiet way of listening that made space for me.

This little poem came from finding a gecko beside the back door one morning. It was so perfectly still, and so firmly attached to the wall, that even after I realised it had died I kept half-expecting it to suddenly spring back to life and run away.

At the beginning of 2024, I was still finding my way through the loss of my dad. Somehow, in the middle of that grief, I had finished my studies. With that chapter closed, I found myself clearing space, letting go of what no longer felt right and trying to work out what might come next.

This poem is about losing my dad, and the regret that comes with looking back.

This poem grew from reading Thich Nhat Hanh’s reflections on communication – the idea that our words can either wound or nurture, and that kindness begins with how we choose to speak.

What once felt deeply hurtful has softened with time into something I can finally smile about. This poem is my attempt to find the humour in a moment that, at the time, felt anything but funny.