Journal Entry # 239 – When You Make Time, You Take Time

Today, I spent some time between the seconds. Life around me filled me with wonder. I watched as a butterfly caught its breath, a flock of seagulls stretched their wings, and the ocean simply lapped the awaiting shore. Make up for your lost time by taking advantage of the free stuff. – Ash

Blueberry Hill

when the blueberries come back…so do you 
we’re together again
scraping and scrounging along the hillside 
every three paces we fill our cups 
 
the colour blue today is for happiness 
its sweet taste…a reminder of your touch 
as I hold a few on the day they first appear 

the air is the same chill
trees with the same tinge of change
cloud shadows still pass over me like they did
I see them at my feet

I am seven again
catching up with your pace
as my bucket spills over
on blueberry hill









A Shade of Ash # 21 – Heart to Heart

Photo by Hernan Pauccara on Pexels.com

I mentioned my daughter today as I always do in conversation. Oddly enough, to someone the same age as her. The response, “If she is anything like you, Ash, I’m sure she is just as awesome.” My heart sank. Why does the rest of the world see what she cannot? Why do I try to convince myself that what they say is not true because it is not told to me by her? Why do I feel broken and all she did was just sweep away the pieces? Questions I ask all the time because I hurt all the time. Something must be wrong with me. 
 
But then someone comes along and suddenly, my reflection in the mirror changes. The questions disappear as I find another piece of me that was thrown away. Returned by a friendly face reminding me how my big my heart actually is.

A Walk to Bartender

Photo by Dorte on Pexels.com

6:05 kicking rocks
every stride a pebble or two
summer hugging me the whole way
the sun was slowly packing up for the day 
and the moon would be here in a few hours 
Saturday so lazy dogs paid no mind to pesky flies 
or to an orange cat nibble-ling a rickety fence 
right there, in front me as my freedom faded away

6:06 I placed my gaze everywhere 
taking in as much still time as I could 
before drunkards beckon me 
fill me full of lies, blow smoke in my face
tell me I’m cute when no one’s watching
and shout more regretful things 
make promises…break promises 
dance 
sing
love 
hate
take swings
jest 
do it all past the pale of moonlight
or until clocks shoo them away

to the place they all knew my name
the walk to a bartender
was a rehearsal
for a keeper of tabs
a keeper of secrets
a keeper of ale
it’s 6:07
what can I get ya… 
 
 
 

Journal Entry # 235 – Roped Back Into Living

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

By the Trestle Bridge

Actual Trestle Bridge from Google – no copyright infringement intended

no idea where I was going
where my footsteps were taking me
not long off the bus and my bags still hanging off the borrowed bed
I’m running toward something
my faith in a girl next door relationship
built on the stock of only a few summers
we were school break friends and I just had to see this
according to everyone
and everyone was going to be there
that was the promise and with a pinky swear
I was a nervous boy in a foreign land
on loan from thirteen-year-old best buds
speaking only the language of the shy and quiet ones
making what would become a beautiful memory
under the bright big moon
along the sparkle-kissed river
surrounded by the sounds of the teenage
on a warm night in August
by the trestle bridge

Out of Body, Into Life

Photo by Britt Pigat on Pexels.com

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

A Pedal For My Thoughts

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ASHTON

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