my winter retreat was lonely flurries turned into storms dark skies seemed always cold bit me every second ice through my veins stiffened from life sharpen gales to cut me away I was polar from everything sitting barren until her voice her light all that warmth from beyond chiselled me free of that void capsule I am her sun she is my days
Welcome back, join me and my continuing conversation about my thoughts, feelings, and emotions to the world around me.
In this episode, I talk about how thinking about the great Christmases of the past can make you excited for the Christmases of the future. Join me for a few memories with some of the backstories. Oh, and as always, I throw in a poem, no wait, a Christmas poem for good measure.
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…
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
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
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