Lilly in the back window,watching as we fed the birds.
A poem for all of us seekers:
Digging
at a time
when the moon hangs
so low, so large,
so bright
your fingers are mystified
at their inability
to touch her,
at a time
like this
with a light
like this,
find a tree
in your woods,
in a city park,
along a lake shore,
next to a pond you made,
find a tree
who is old and strong
and tall and deep,
find a tree
and kneel before her
and caress her roots
and follow one
to the point
of its diving
under the dirt
and dig,
with your bare
hands, dig.
It is at this tree,
this tree you know,
this tree you pass
by frequently, daily,
it is at this tree,
deep where its roots
stop, deep where new
root is at this moment
emerging, it is here
that truth resides.
No need to look
elsewhere.
--Christine C. Reed
at a time
when the moon hangs
so low, so large,
so bright
your fingers are mystified
at their inability
to touch her,
at a time
like this
with a light
like this,
find a tree
in your woods,
in a city park,
along a lake shore,
next to a pond you made,
find a tree
who is old and strong
and tall and deep,
find a tree
and kneel before her
and caress her roots
and follow one
to the point
of its diving
under the dirt
and dig,
with your bare
hands, dig.
It is at this tree,
this tree you know,
this tree you pass
by frequently, daily,
it is at this tree,
deep where its roots
stop, deep where new
root is at this moment
emerging, it is here
that truth resides.
No need to look
elsewhere.
--Christine C. Reed
5 comments:
That is amazingly beautiful, both the words (and the images they evoke) and the shape.
i'm so emotionally attached to the trees in our yard, that your words struck a deep cord within my heart. thank you christine...
Lil
Ohmigod I love that poem! It is where my spiritual practice has led me--to the trees. Thanks for speaking it.
Falling in love is such fun!
I recommend everybody do it often. :)
I pity the poor soul who failed to fall in love with someone by the time they were in the elementary grade years.
In days of yore, Catholics did not eat meat on Fridays, or ever in Lent, and a bunch of other times. I am surprised more vegetarians did not exist in those days. We made up for it on Thursdays.
Moms were home everywhere and had lunch ready on the table daily. School broke for an hour to walk home, eat, walk back, play, and get in line for round two.
But on Thursdays, you could sit in the Cauley at St. Patrick's and get TWO Smith Hot Dogs for 25 cents. Add a nickel for milk. This was the time when I could sit at the table with Louise Adams (fake name...she is happily married now; let's leave it that way). :(
Some kids have nothing to talk about, but Louise was a fascinating conversation maker every Thursday. To this day, when I bite a Smith Hot Dog, I think of those Thursday lunches together.
The smell is precisely the same for a Smith's, then and now. But the memory recall from the smell of a Smith's, brings to mind jet black hair, creamy white skin, dark eyes and a winning smile. Confidence was her character. She looked good in a jumper too!
I wanted to pay a tribute to our love, so one day, I climbed to the first heavy limb of our tree at home.
I pulled out a knife and began to carve our initials, mine above hers with a + between and a heart all around everything.
D. L.
+
L. A.
(You'll have to imagine the heart, easy if you try)
These tributes are harder to carve in a tree than you would think. Maybe that's why kids don't do it anymore, for I rarely see a heart with initials of love inside on any trees anywhere.
Maybe my thinking came from watching Jack and the Beanstalk and seeing that stalk grow magnificently up to the heavens. I expected our heart encased initials to rise every year toward the heavens as our love grew.
No one told me that the tree would stay precisely where it was, and the growth would emerge out of the top!
The initials and heart stayed at the precise height that I had carved them, and would remain a "tribute" to a love that never grew any higher too.
In later years, the bark would mottle over and grow cracks, eventually erasing the artistry. It is as if God is erasing and forgiving the lost love, like shaking an Etch-A-Sketch, to rid the details.
Decades later, her career path put her on the NBC Evening News one night. People change like trees on the outside, but the voice is unforgettable and remains the same!
I learned about "height" from that tree....and the limits to some love.
The BardBliss tree reminded me of Louise all over again. Her birthday is tomorrow, January 4th, a Day of Epiphany!
Bard says get to the roots and you find truth.
"No need to look elsewhere".
But, if you are looking for evidence of love, whether lost or found, sometimes you have to look up higher on a tree.
Hey Christine! I made a new doll, a new VIDEO & I'm starting a revolution! Come join me! Say ADIOS to the SUCKY people!
LOVE&freedom~
e
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