All it took was early Sunday light spilling across the onyx- hemmed pearly squares; fresh bright glaring light picking out the delicate mosaics between them. My son had set up the board within pulsing sunlight from the window, with all the fierce focus and sensuality of the young and keen. Harnessing the beauty of the moment. Just because. With a keen ache between my shoulders and eyes I yearned for Twenty years ago, when just a boy. Perplexing my son, I inhale the dry, spicy scent of its panels. Scoop up inlaid counters and show him the sharp resin smell that they still possess. As if fresh out of the workshop from Damascus. A fine feat, to make jagged shards as silken soft as damask.
Breaking surface from tumbling, lulling memories I watch the light fade upon the well-loved surface, and recall my craving for a morning coffee. Merely moments have passed in this swirling of years, and I watch a new generation trace the designs with curious hands.
Copyright Tom Tide 2017