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Mud & Memories
| Open Poetry #40 |
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Mud & Memories |
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aziza Member Elite
since 2006-07-09
Posts 2995Lumpy Oatmeal makes me Crazy! |
Mud and Memories It was mud between my toes that squished and squashed when I walked through the puddles. The water swirled around my knees as I bent to put my stick in the waves and watched it sail to the seas. It bumped through the canals of flowing water that I made with my brother on that rainy summer day. My hair slipped from my braids and my new red sweatshirt became brown with mud and water. The rivers became lakes as I constructed dams and blocked the flow with my wooden "cat" As water backed up and swirled in the pools it flooded grass lands and forests of elderberry trees, I rushed to save the back-stroking bugs that would die without my leaf boat to lift them to freedom. Time has swiftly moved on and is marked by annual birthday cakes with more and more candles and less and less presents; the joy of the day is not quite the same as it was when I longed to be six, or ten, or sixteen, or twenty-one; each year representing significance that is known by many; the first day of school, the first year with a double-digit age, the year I could drive and the year I could drink legally. All that time has passed and I have never forgotten that day in the puddle when I knew I would grow up to do wonderful things and play in the mud every day and eat chocolate ice cream and tomato soup for supper every night and knew I would never eat oatmeal or pancakes again. There are days when I stand at the riverbank, pull off my shoes and socks and feel the mud in between my toes. People have moved through my life some forever and some will never be forgotten ever ever; my brother is one such person. He was my protector and my friend; he carried my twigs to start the morning fire and bent backwards with the load of both of our share, and he smiled when he would say, "Load me up, Liz" and I would smile as I loaded him up and then led him from the woods. We had a friendship that can never die because he is in me carried in my heart and soul forever; talked of in my stories and shared in my writings; he is in the mud I play in and the songs I sing; he is in the clouds I watch and in the roads I drive; he is the blessing of my life and he has taught me that friends are what we live for, that mistakes can be rectified, words can be taken back and hurts can be healed. We are here for each other, friends and spouses and children and lovers and relatives and co-workers and casual acquaintances. We are all meeting and caring and living and loving and fighting and destroying, but in the destruction we can re-build and we can grow hope and love and courage and commitment. We are the family of man and we share this moment today. I only hope when I die someday that people will remember the mud between my toes and the chocolate around my mouth and the light in my eyes and the hand that I hold out to all of you. Nothing else means much to me; my life is reflected in my family, my animals and my friends. Alison |
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| © Copyright 2007 Alison - All Rights Reserved | |||
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aziza Member Elite
since 2006-07-09
Posts 2995Lumpy Oatmeal makes me Crazy! |
Damn, I meant to post that in prose. I am sorry - can it be moved? Or deleted and I can post it in the proper place? A |
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OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa |
Thank you for posting it in the wrong place, otherwise I wouldn't have seen it as I hardly have the time to read this forum, let alone another. It is beautiful. I loved it. What a good and real person you are! I understand about your brother. I have that relationship with my horse, Flicka, who has been in Heaven 5 years yesterday. - Owl |
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jwesley Member Rara Avis
since 2000-04-30
Posts 7563Spring, Texas |
Beautiful warm, write, my friend, and written extremely well, getting your feelings and heart across in a very cognizant way of sharing... well done. jimmy |
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L. Ottanio Junior Member
since 2007-04-17
Posts 27Connecticut, USA |
wow - i thought i was reading about me... oh how I loved the mud... and you know I remember walking thru it barefoot and loving the feeling... thanks for helping me remember... i think I might just walk in the rain the next time it does and look for puddles... my dad - he is 80 years old... and when it's raining - he will drive through the puddle in his car, just to see how long the tire treadmarks will go on the road. |
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