Bayview Park

I draw in a breath and hold it. The smell of the ocean permeates every cell. Overhead, the seagulls circle in unique patterns. Down the way one can see him sitting there on the sea wall....a man in ragged clothes. He stares out into many worlds.....worlds within himself.

As the drawbridge raises, the sound of a tugboat takes predominance over the lull of traffic behind me. The horn sounds harsh against the stillness.

Patches of whitecaps slide across the sugar white sand. Seashells cover the sandbar as far as the eye can see. A young couple walks out on the fishing pier. I wonder of their world.

The sand clings to my bare feet as I stroll toward the man that stares into his own ragged spots. I draw in another deep breath of sea air as the seagulls swoop down for their hunt. I, too, keep hunting.......

The Mountain Cabin

We drove along the narrow roads which still caused me concern. The residents on the mountain were familiar with the drive and its curves and jutting rocks. The fear of falling or running off the road kept me from seeing the beauty of things around me. I noticed as I became older that trees were beautiful in the fall; The yellows, oranges, golds and greens. Down as far as one could see, when looking over the cliffs, stood nature in her finest array.

Although I was born in the hills of Tennessee, we had moved to what is called the bikini state when I was a tender age. Daddy and Mama would travel back and forth to visit their mothers at least once a year. It's funny how as a child everything isn't black or white. It can be whatever we think we see. It can be what we are told or what we are happy with.

My brother and I enjoyed going to the little cabin on the hillside. A rather stately woman with demands to make on everyone was introduced to us as our great grandmother. She was less than pleasant in looks and mannerisms. I remember thinking her bark was every bit as dangerous as her bite.

We ran through the fields of tall grass exploring every animal that caught our attention. We sat high on the tractor as though we were the most important girl and boy in all those parts. We found pieces and parts of what became our special treasures.

The most intriquing part of our day was drawing water from the well. It looked ominous inside. As far down as we could see, the lower portion was jet black. We would drop the bucket down for water by turning the handle until it landed in the water with a loud echo. We were facinated. You could bring it up or drop it down quickly for a really big splash. We later learned, the hard way, that you were not to throw rocks in the well water to hear tinkling sounds. Oh no, that was not the thing to do.

Book Writing

An update on the progress of my book. I am totally pleased with things. I hope to be finished with the written portion within the next two weeks. Of course there will be editing, maybe a few changes, followed by uploading to lulu.com for publish. My advice to anyone would be that if you are not serious about this endeavor, do not start such a trip. It takes much work, dedication, thought, forbearance and the ability to be flexible with outside interruptions.

IN PEACE

The air is alight with angels. They float as mist across the outer edges of my eye. I blink to sweep them into veiled places. They trace my cheek with whispers. They line my soul from the inside out with images of love. My dreams are filled with mirrors. I gaze into the deepest colors of my soul. Somewhere in the distance, I feel the invisible arms of God's Son.
I slumber......................

Things About Things

What can I say about nature? I walk outside to become acquainted with the night sky. The clouds are lazy gray. They're scattered with splotches of dark, irregular-shaped pillows.

The air is thick with the smell of rain. The night hovers as a blanket over a vast meadow. The glow of the moon walks across the sky toward secret places. I wonder where it sits among the waking hours just before first light.

I wonder where God places the next day's paintings.

How many times I have wished to become a sleeping flower in my grandmother's garden. I lost count long ago.
She was as gentle as the summer rain. Her tulips always had a smile for her... as she had for me.
She was akin to nature, it seemed....

CHURCH

I remember well when Daddy became what he called ‘saved’. I didn’t know what that meant, and I really didn’t care. Saved from what, I thought? Due to this new saving thing, we were all going to put on new clothes and shoes and go to church.
Church—what was church?

It sits boxed up in my memory bank as though it just happened. We went to a little white church down the street from our house. I didn’t find a thing of interest. Strange looking men in funny looking clothes were playing music. Things called guitars, Daddy said. They looked like wood with strings tied too tight to me.

Church lasted way too long for my brother and me. We were glad when the preacher dismissed us. We had heard the sirens close by but I thought nothing of it. I just wanted out of there.

We walked outside and one look down the block told me that something bad had happened. Yes, during our first-time to visit God’s house, our house burned down. My brother reminded me tonight, May 1,2009, that our house had burned on Christmas Eve. We were indeed children that believed in Santa Clause. We lost everything that night. We were very sad. So very very sad.....

I remember thinking God must not have wanted us there. How angry he was to do this. I would vow to never go again. I was too afraid.

Life

I write out my life hour by hour, word by word, and thought by thought. I try to speak of something meaningful before falling into a corner of my own creation. Growing up, my life was happy for the most part. I grew like a wild flower in ground of strange soil. We were transplanted from place to place. My Father was a minister which had its own shortcomings. I oft times felt like a piece of thread trying to make it through the eye of change. I learned quickly that the spotlight was for my dad but not for me. Everything I did reflected on what he was and what he was... reflected on my being.