As I rounded the edge of a low lying plateau, my eyes beheld the Basin. Wrapped in the golden arms of Autumn, I felt a rise of emotion within my chest.
Rolling down the window to breathe in the rich farmland air I braked to a stop.
“I made it,” I said, drinking it all in.
Stands of Poplars marked residents over a hundred years old. An echoing bark from across the way rang softly in my ears. An answering call from a cluster of cows pulled my eyes across the countryside.
Unbidden, a thought grew in my mind.
“This ground is blood of your blood, these trees are bones of your bone.”
Again a wave of emotion rose within me, and tears sprang to my eyes.
“Home,” I whispered in the emptiness of my car. “I am home.”
Alone but I know,
Buried where green field meets light
Innocent blood dries
Two lines and a ripple.
The clouds spread dappled shade,
Upon a lush land of green.
We drank the waters of our youth,
And thought our troubles ended.
But then we left this paradise,
Thinking our days unending.
And wound our feet upon the road,
Death’s path, forever descending.
And now you lay within my arms,
Your life rippling away.
And I look back down a time dusted lane,
One we should have never taken.
“Do you have your shoes on? You can’t leave until they are tied.” My mother’s voice called from the kitchen table, forcing me to pause and look at my feet.
“Yes, Mom! They’re on and tied!” I called back. Already my cousins had fled the scene, their brightly colored shirts disappearing around a large lilac hedge. I could still hear their laughter as they ran up the lane.
“Alright then, have fun and watch out for snakes!” I was already out the door and down the steps before the screen door could slide all the way shut. Cool morning air filled my lungs and my feet all but danced me after my peers.
Beyond lay the morning sun rising above a half ring of mountains. Their peaks covered in dark evergreens and gold brushed undergrowth.
Ahead of me, beyond a swinging gate children laughed in the dust.
“Where did it go? Did you lose it?” Hands went to eyes
Hands went to eyes, shielding them from the glowing orb above. The smell of cow manure and fresh water mingled in a tossing wind. Feet carried young bodies to and fro as an agile form leaped from its hiding place.
A unison of voices called out shaking a pheasant from beneath sage brush. “There it goes! Hurry before it disappears into the stream!”
A momentary scuffle ensued ending in a cry of triumph, “I have it! I caught him!”
Waving a fist the captor proudly exhibited his prize. Wondering eyes examined the proffered specimen. Fingers stroked curiously at wet body and legs. A single croak emanated from the half open fist, answered by several screams.
“Put it back! Put it back!”
One last round of wonderment took in protruding eyes and large gold ringed spots. And then their friend, the Leopard Frog sprang into crystal clear water.
Beyond the window, a rustling field of grass and sage waved. It rippled as if a vast giant were skipping invisible stones across the surface of the Basin.
“I’m waiting for something.” I thought to myself, feeling a restlessness settle in the back of my throat. “Something is coming just under the surface.”
Across the lane, a single line of water bubbled. It’s track forcing a groove through loose dirt and rock. It followed a gradual decline and pooled just under a swinging metal gate. Tracks and old tread marks crisscrossed the gathering water.
For a moment my vision reversed, and I found myself looking into a shifting mirror. Clouds swirled in its depths, echoing my own insides.
“What is it?” I whispered to the glass, half heartedly casting a glance over my shoulder.
And as if in answer a fork of lightning threw itself across the sky, gyrating through my mirror. Thunder shook the window sill, vibrating into my arms, body, and out into the bench beneath me.
Then came the rain.
As birds sing up above.
Innocence stills upon a hill,
Illuminated by the clouds.
He waits for thoughts to climb on high,
As he looks up towards the sky.
His mind is waiting for the light,
As only one guiltless can.
And smiles does he looking down to see,
A bee upon a flower.
This month on the Ink Owl I am excited to return to more original poetry and memories from my life. September has always been a month of renewal for me. It is a month fraught with change as school begins and seasons transform. I often find myself reflecting on what new opportunities are in store for the future. Regardless of age, or stage of life September has been a month of crossroads.
Throughout the month I will be featuring original photographs from my cabin in the wide open farmlands of Idaho, as well as writings inspired by the scenery and memories of that special place. There will also be a selection of random poems and haikus to liven things up.
I hope to inspire those of you who come across my blog this month to embrace the change that so readily affects all of our lives. There is always something to be learned and gained from every moment in life, be it the solid road of the past, the expanding gateway of the present, and the ever shifting pathways of the future. Happy reading to all this month.