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Blogs > wickedeasy > wicked and that ain't so easy |
"i'll meet you there
"i'll meet you there there's a field somewhere beyond all doubt and all wrong doing i'll meet you there Rumi in the summers my grampa's farm, when he tired of childis talking he would send my cousin and I away. "up you go" and we could be released to freedom of all adults and any discouragement of bad ideas as we trudged up the hill across from the farmhouse. there was a wee pond, a small brook, many birch for bending and enough land to become whatever our minds could imagine. we were not to pick the lady slippers or the jack in the pulpits. they were never to be touched and so of course they were magic and became central to almost all of our dream like afternoons. small princes and lush ladies. smilies. remember, a farm breeds a lusty imagination. there was a particular afternoon, golden at first with sun so bright that we skinny dipped in the pond despite the frogs that tended to make my cousin skittish. then like two heathens naked we ran the woods until we dried. at the stream we found the magic rocks for the faerie house a good pelt of moss for the roof, s lovely fat mushroom for a table. and as we built the home in the crook of an old split maple, we sang all the songs we could think of that would draw them to us. sitting a bit away. we waited as the sun disappeared. but it wasn't setting as we assumed. a crack of thunder starled us from ou. reverie. and we saw this dark figure standing about 50 or so feet away. my cousin who was given to bouts of girlishness began to cry. I stodd up, shouting ….still lost in the fantasy....declare yourself who dares threaten the faery kingdom. I threaten no one. I am here only to bring my grandchildren home before they get caught in the storm. smiles. I should have known. he was too short for a villain. maybe a troll. and like two scared girls no longer warrior guides, we ran to him, chattering about all we had done as he slid a lollipop into each of oru mouths......perhaps hoping for silence but I think only because he came prepared. You cannot conceive the many without the one. |
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I have been thinking a lot about all the people in my life who have crossed over. what a wonderful reunion I will have when I finally leave here for there....smiles You cannot conceive the many without the one.
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What a great story my friend thank you for sharing it with us, and I have missed you. I hope all is well, and I hope your day continues to be an enjoyable one..
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Hello WE Good to see you back Great Post my Friend, Beautifully written Please visit my Blog "Older but no Wiser"
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It is memories such as these, that sustain us until we meet the parted again. Opportunity may knock only once, but temptation bangs on the door forever!
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Beautiful ❤️
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So nice to see you. Is there anything better than an adventure with a cousin? Summer seems endless when we have visits with faeries to look forward to. What flavor was the lollipop? "Sometimes the most productive thing you can do is relax." – Mark Black
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3/6/2019 2:45 pm |
So lovely. Thanks again WE for bringing a piece of your childhood to us, and for bringing me back to mine for a few moments. Reminds me of Dylan T's poem, "Fern Hill" about growing up and eventually leaving his boyhood home - a place of the heart forever etched in his mind. The last line of that poem is on his tombstone in Westminster Abbey. These people and places never leave us.
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Oui… You do have a gift of words. Your constructions are firmly planted on stone foundations... and are piled, layer upon layer, precisely--just as clouds are piled, layer upon layer so as to build the storm that approaches... and brings forth the safety offered by Gramps. You need to compile your words as a sort of compendium--publish and kick back on the royalties. Solar...
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Fabulous words as ever McW, very evocative....
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*sigh I wish I had known my grandfather before he died. The stories about him were like yours, full of love and patience. <3
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Wow, quite the imagination given the venue...
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