Ten seconds of silence or perhaps a tenth
Of a second of silence afforded all -
An unnamed log my pillow and the red
Soil my mattress
The towering sentient Sequoia, nearly
As old as Christ, I am guessing,
Too tall for me to see its upper rooms
Tears tickled my belly
Tears shuffled their feet under my eye-lids
Plenty of time to tune into
The source this tree provided
I would have loved more time
nestled by its side,
feeling its history meet mine - relating,
somehow, to this tree
This day, though, was about and for
Them. And Me. Not for me alone.
My notebook pages barren this day
No turning to pencil and paper
My notebooks and words would wait
For translation, later. I want to wrap my
Children in experience which spans beyond
My readers right now.
“I'll be back, be right back..." and
focus on creating memories my children
will carry as I carry my view from the
picture window in the rented cabin
My dad, out on the family canoe,
alone on a lake in the middle of dawn.
Little me labeled this moment “lonely”
Grown me labels this moment delicious
I understand the need for solitude and
Know he was holding his sweet
Moments (slightly more than a tenth
Of a second) before family experience
And making memories alongside us
He didn’t know as he praised the quiet
Water underneath the canoe and the
Blessed smells of a lake offering nothing
and everything he was also
unknowingly making a memory
for me which has lasted this lifetime
and now stretches into yours
Julie Jordan Scott delivers conscious inspiration in the Daily Passion Activator, - insights delivered directly into your email box. Why not Subscribe today? It's free.
Beautiful Julie and what memories!
Pamela
Posted by: pamela | July 19, 2010 at 09:03 AM
loved your take on the Sequoias...I took my kids there 35 years ago and was lost in the grandeur and the magic of the trees. When I saw the highway through god I ducked my head to hide a tear. Then I found a place of solitude and knelt with my eyes to the sky and ask God to forgive us for what we did to his tree.
Posted by: Old Grizz | July 19, 2010 at 09:16 AM
this was wonderful.
Posted by: Lisa | July 19, 2010 at 10:21 AM
you're their memory source...nice
Posted by: Marsha | July 19, 2010 at 11:18 AM
It's a majestic experience isn't it. I can relate to your connection to the tree and your dad's on the lake. I like starting my day, in the boat, on the water, a bit of solitude before the world catches up to me.
Posted by: Nara Malone | July 19, 2010 at 06:08 PM
What a great experience! Thanks for your kind comment on my blog.
Posted by: Megan | July 19, 2010 at 08:01 PM
such a peaceful reflective feeling to this. Sounds like you had a magnificent experience!
Posted by: Dee | July 21, 2010 at 12:42 PM
Have been there with my own children probably 3 decades ago or so. Still can feel the trees in my heart, their loving arms reaching through the ethers to let me know their love never dies and surrounds me still. Thank you for sharing and daring to take time off from your writing to be with your precious children, who grow up all too soon :)!
Loving You, Morgine
Posted by: Morgine | July 26, 2010 at 10:39 PM