Thompson Emate Poet Prose Poetry

Augury

She called for me. I saw her standing by the window, transfixed by something outside. I stood at the door and could faintly hear a melodious tune. She beckoned me to come closer, and I marvelled at what she had seen. There were three colourful singing birds at the window, unruffled by our presence.

“They woke me up this morning,” she said.
“Wow,” I exclaimed.

There was a brief moment of silence between us. “It’s a sign,” she said, turning to look at me.
“What kind of sign?” I asked.
“It’s a sign that a soul is crossing to the beyond. A beloved one is easing into the night,” she explained.

Her words didn’t sink in deeply at the time.

As the morning light streamed through the window, the birds flew away. We were bereaved three days later when Nana eased into the beyond.

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