I love experiencing something that I forgot I missed. Like the smell of the ocean, the call of seabirds, and standing in the picking rain while I drift. I call them triggers when they happen. Triggers that I’m not living my life the way I was meant to. Reminders that there are pieces of me that need replenishing. – Ash
today, the air was different
I paid attention to the seabirds
watched the tide go all the way out
to my left, a boat hummed away from the harbour
to my right, lost sheep chew green grass into yellow
a car passes by and the people wave
while Jack the black cat sits still on a picket fence
and Patti, the old neighbour strokes the last drop of paint
…against his saltbox home
I am shaken by something I can’t understand
an algorithm of existing in a moment of my life
seeing clear because that life stopped me in my tracks
pushed my breath straight to my lungs
grew my heart for the love of living
filled me with the longing for more
I know now that there is something more to every day
my heart was smothered and my soul blinded
until my spirit had enough and awakened
Lying awake in the dares of the night
between the seconds of darkness that it created
anxious, with a pulsing heart
a sweaty grip
gripping tightly so wishing for light
I watch the shadows and silhouettes patrol
alone by vicinity
crowded by bonded blood
the air steals my voice
blankets smother my breath
sounds muffle the familiar
it’s only me now
in a world of living nightmares
it was always only me
this life is a puzzle
with many different pieces
let me throw away the black ones
so something beautiful can be complete
You are a flower
a flower long picked from the garden home
with just today as a reminder of when you began to grow
seasons pass and nothing else seems to want to flourish anymore
your bloom was what kept these old roots alive
now, the rain never comes backs
the sun only hurts
the moon listens, but that’s all
the wind is gone before I know it
not one thing about life is life
in this garden home
without a little flower
We should not worry about how long we will live? But, rather, how do we live? Quantity of life is a one-time blessing. It’s the quality of life that provides forever bliss. – Ash
When I was a young boy, my grandmother would always tell me that I was bound for something great. Glimpses of me behind a desk somewhere with a pen and paper. No more substance than that. Just that nothing else would fit what mould she had envisioned for me. She would tell me this with a smile and pride in her voice. It would instantly make me smile too. But, for years I wondered what that meant. Now, as a published poet and six years deep into my blog, Earth to Ash, amongst creating every single chance I get, this is what she had seen. This is what she knew was coming for me. A future with writing. Sharing my thoughts, feelings, and emotion to the world around me. Like I have said from the start. I don’t consider myself to be a great writer, but I am enjoying the journey of someday becoming one. And when I reach that goal, it will forever be because of Theresa Douglas. Nan/Mom, if only you could read those words you seeded inside this soul of mine that writes to connect forever with yours and the world can take a peek too. – Ash
I went for a walk just now and, along the way, I saw this single leaf still fixed to the tree. Standing there, I thought about if this symbolized anything. Maybe there was a meaning. Then, in a moment, it came to me. Somedays, I may be fragile. But I am damn strong when it matters. Anyday. I can, have, and will weather any storm. I will always hang on. – Ash
There are many moments in a day, but the important ones belong to me. – Ash
Earth To Ash 