A perfect evening. The guests are seating themselves, the fondue oil is reaching an optimal temperature, the scallops have come off the ice and I am driving, five minutes from the house. Then this happens.
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The forest would speak to me, but it knows not what to say, as it’s truth is too deep, too pained and intense. It loves me and leaves me, when I want it to stay. I am pale and lost without it’s soft touch, it’s caress might be death, it’s loss just as much. It is my muse, my meditation, my life and my strength. I would love to hate it, but it touches my core, like then, like now and before, it has opened my doors.
From the day I first saw it, I knew its true nature, what it was and that I would die by it’s beautiful hand. I fought it, I dodged it, found ways not to be there, in the hope I might never engage. Yet life has its course and its challenges to meet, and I found myself wondering deep in the woods, lost, without compassion or sleep. It tricked me to love it, then cut me down where I stood.
Now it teases and goads, and laughs at my pain. It is not malicious or callous, it has nothing to gain. It has tangled my roots and my tears pour like rain. I would beg it again and again to let me be free, but it is a cold mistress, and I am just one of its harvested souls. I would give it all that it wants, but it is in its nature to spurn fools once they love.
Yet a forest is a beautiful thing, it lies quiet all winter, then brings life in the spring. And when I am recycled, it will use me to grow. Yes, I am not only joined by the roots, it has taken my core. The forest is one with my soul and life can be empty when it will speak no more. It looks past me and through me, it just passes by. So I look into the pool and by its light I know, I am me no more, I am a part of the forest, for now and forever, I have broken my walls, opened my doors. I have heeded the call, I am one with the forest and will fight it no more..
PS - When the muse is upon me, I don't edit or polish, I just try to get the words in the right order as they occur. I think this is about how one might live according to rules and the expectations of others - forgetting to honor who we truly are.
From "The Book That Dreams"
© G P F for All images and text, please do not use without my express permission.
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IF They Loved You ....
Should I keep my cat when she wants to go
When she walks around and cries all day
Then cries all night and pisses on the beds
I’ve explained about coyotes and the outside dread
To try and keep her close
But it is that which we fear, that she loves the most
How the kids will miss her, her meow and scratching post
She is home with us
But she walks around in pain, like a lost soul, an on-call ghost
She loves us, but will pine away to nothing if she isn’t freed
And am I really her protector
Or just a crushing bore, who closed the garden door
She says she doesn’t mind coyotes breathing down her neck
So long as she gets to live
To run and hunt, to smell the smells, to climb and play like there never was a lid
If she spends her life, locked safe in doors
She will be safe
But she still won’t live forever more
And when she is on the porch watching the sun
Will old age be mellow
Or a hollow tale of what might have been.
Oh, I am the kitty, hear me roar
And what is that?
It’s the lonely Tom who lives next door
PS - I chose this image to go with the cat thing as the flower looks a little like a Satellite Dish to me, and the message from the kitty to say, "Hey People, Are You Listening?". Obscure, tell me about it, even I didn't get it at first, and it's my stuff :).
From "The Book That Dreams"
© G P F for All images and text, please do not use without my express permission.
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If you chased him and caught him, would you hurt him, keep him, or let him go?
From "The Book That Dreams"
© G P F for All images and text, please do not use without my express permission.
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