Tag Archives: friendship

Rock and the Leaf

I wanted to share a short story that I recently found while going through the belongings my best friend’s recently departed brother.   I found the story charming and thought that more than just I should read it…so I typed it up to share here.  My only edits are adding a bit of punctuation and a couple words [indicated in brackets] just for clarity and ease of reading.  I do hope you enjoy it!

 


Rock and the Leaf

Once there was a rock.  Not a big rock but a rock securely anchored with other rocks which were under water.  The water slewed around him and over them and made a quiet little eddy behind.  He made a nice, precise little place and the water just flowed around him.

He set there for a long time and the mosses and bugs that lived around began to trust him.  They began to grow and live around him.  Beautiful green moss nourished by the water flourished on his back.  He provided shelter for the bugs that lived in and around the water.  He sheltered them well through the dry hard times when the water ebbed and his brother rocks could see what he was doing then and he sheltered them when the creek raged.

Beautiful creatures began to live there; the wondrous water boatmen, pixie flies and quick water striders.  They all praised him for his strength and great power.  It was about this time that strangers came and began to marvel at the beautiful effect that came with all the wonderful creatures living around him.  Water burbled, birds sang, sunlight glinted off “his” water.  People came from all around to look at this beautiful sight.  Somebody set up a stone bench so that people could stop, rest, and gaze [at] this little scene.  It was so beautiful.

Then one day, on a warm sparkling autumn day, a leaf float[ing] by became enchanted by the quiet little cove created by the rock and his friends.  So she slipped.  “Hi,” she said in a throaty voice.  “Hi,” said the rock, pleased with the creek, the water, and everything.  He was doing a good job and he knew it.  “This is a nice place,” she said, “I like what you’ve done here.”  “Thank you,” said the rock, “I like how you swirl [and] your colors are so pretty.”  “Thank you,” said the leaf, “Do you mind if I rest here a bit? I’m a little tired.”  “By all means, please do,” said the rock, “That is why I’m here.” His chest swelled noticeably.  The leaf smiled and nestled right in.  The rock smiled benevolently upon [the] leaf.  He liked the way she lay against him. The edge of her stem tickled him.  The tips of her touched him in a way he’d never been touched before.  It was strange but nice, sort of like the wings of a butterfly.  She fell asleep.

The next day she awoke in the bright sunshine.  The rock said, “Hello, good morning.”  She said, “Hello, sleep well.”  “I don’t sleep,” said the rock, “I have to stand fast or else all creatures under my care are cast away.”  “Oh really?” she asked. “I never really worry about that, I just find another rock when I need to, or a log, or the side of a branch.  It’s really no trouble and quite simple.

They talked many hours.  He told her about the bugs and the people.  She told [him] about the many sights she had seen; the mosque on the hill, the beautiful cherries, cemeteries, [and] people’s homes.  She talked of many things.  He talked about the many storms he’d weathered.  [About how he had] almost been dislodged once and he’d hung on saving the delicate green mosses [and] the minnows their home.

So they lived for a while.  Her colors fascinated him; she had reds, greens, yellows all over and a streak of dark red that made him [think] of winter frost.

One night there was a storm and she wasn’t near him.  He couldn’t see in the dark.  He couldn’t feel her touch either.  He was afraid she’d gone, but she hadn’t.  In the morning he found her drifting near where the current was strong.  “Don’t leave,” he called.  She spun his way, all crinkly, and said, “Oh, but I must.  I don’t want to stay here.  You are very beautiful but there are other sights to see and things to do.”  “There are sights here, too” he said.  “It’s too quiet here,” she said laughing gaily.  “The quiet is where the deepest wonder is,” he said miserably.

She floated off.  He watched her drift off.  “I don’t care if you leave,” he muttered, “…I don’t…”  She didn’t hear.

He didn’t miss her until the next night, when the tendril of touch that she used to hold on with was gone.  Night followed day and then night.  “Leaf-la,” he thought, “where have you gone?”  As the water moved around him it began to eat away under his moorings.  His grip became looser and still the water wore on.  His brothers called to him in dismay, but he paid no heed.  He kept looking downstream.  “I wish I were a leaf,” he thought despairingly.  “Leaf-la where are you?” he said.

The water wore on.  Pieces of moss began to float away.  The bugs began going someplace else to eat and raise their young.  The minnows left.  People stopped coming to sit and watch the rock and his minions.  The water had a plain raucous sound.  “Rock what’s going on?” asked his brother rocks.  He would not reply.

That night a roaring rushing came down the creek.  Rock didn’t care.  “Leaf-la,” he thought [as] the water lifted him, “Leaf-la, I’m coming.”  Down the creek he went with other nomadic rocks.  Stumbling and splashing he jerked along.  “Leaf-la I’m coming.”

He used all his knowledge of water to move along.  He stayed where the current was strong. [He] avoided big stopper rocks.  Still even after all the rocks he’d known had stopped, he kept on bumping and stumbling ever onward, looking for Leaf-la.

By Bruce McJilton

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Receive

 

Receive

~Background image from Pixabay poem by Melanie Thomason (3/23/16)

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beautiful anomaly -for Gigi Appreciation Day- part 5

the world is a crazy,

maddening place

people shuffle through

blindly

at a mind numbing pace

ignoring the atrocities

that happen

right in front of their face

sometimes it gets hard

to find the humanity

in the human race

but look past the insanity

and you can find

the beautiful anomalies

who Stand Up

with passion and grace

and speak out actively

to better our space

~Melanie Thomason

Happy Birthday to a beautiful anomaly ❤

 

 

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Gigi Appreciation Day- part 2

In case you missed the memo…Today is Gigi’s birthday which I have also declared Gigi Appreciation Day! To continue the celebration of all things Gigi here are a few more selections 😀

One of her whimsical Chicklet paintings

Rubber Stamp Art

 

A Poem

Summer night…

I
heard
the
sax
first

 

low
jagged
sounds
crying
the
blues

 

then
the
darkness
started
moving
in

 

chasing
away
the
light

 

 

the
closer
the
darkness
edged
in

 
the
louder
the
sax
became
notes
torn
from
from
the
musician’s
soul

 

the
night
chuckled
and
held
out
its
misty
hand
offering
a
dance
knowing
it
wouldn’t
have
to
ask
me
twice

 

 

A Short Story: Alan Ladewig

Alan was a good man and a true poet.  He didn’t just write poetry, he lived it.  He was living his poetry when he was arrested, as he sat in Pen & Ink, his favorite cafe, sipping coffee and writing on a napkin.   Alan went to Pen & Ink several times a day, so he was well known by the staff and by more than a few customers.  Those who knew him were used to words falling from his table, pockets and nibs.  They were even accustomed to watching Alan stand up and recite partial or even full, rather long and tiresome poems. But when he stood on his chair and loudly shouted verse after verse about trees, true love, blue skies and fast moving clouds, the proprietor had simply reached his limit.

Alan and his words were hustled off to a dreary, but empty, cell to wait until his words got control of themselves.  Once they did, he was released with a warning to keep his worlds to himself, unless performing in front of a willing and, hopefully, paying audience.  Alan nodded, gathered his pens, pencils and bits of paper and left the police station. A few word dribbled from his sleeve but the officers either ignored them or never noticed.

Alan had a somewhat lonely life.  Several years earlier he had fallen in love, but the woman left him when he couldn’t stop writing poems about her, even when they were together.  He knew that it was wrong to write poetry about her beauty, while they were out having dinner, but he couldn’t help himself, the words kept pushing at him until he released them onto paper.  To be honest, there were always new words, more words, different words, all trying to escape from his mind and fingertips.  When she left, Alan’s poems turned dark.  He wrote of pain and loss, of broken heats and sadness.  But once he had released the words, he felt better and his life returned to normal.

At one point, Alan understood that he was not experiencing life in the same way others were.  All of his senses were focused on words.  He rarely looked up from his notes and scribbles.  He didn’t care, of course, it was just something he noticed.  He wrote his life and lived it on paper, others seemed to move through life and touch it in a different way.  Alan wrote about that.  He was an observant man, and he wrote about his observations.  In his later years, Alan wrote about endings.  His poems were about the sea and the ebbing of life.

A tenant called the landlord early one morning.  She said it was the third day in a row that she had walked by Alan’s door and had not seen words in the hallway.  Mr. Timbers slid his key into Alan’s lock and entered Alan’s rooms.  The neighbor gasped at what she saw.  Alan  was on the floor, covered with words.  He was smiling and held a light blue piece of paper in his hand.  His pen lay next to him, small words still leaking from its tip.  The landlord took the paper from Alan’s hand and read it aloud.

“A poet writes his own life.  I have lived well.”

Three years later, Alan’s poems were published in a thirteen volume matching set.  His work won a number of prizes and during the winter holidays his books were reprinted on fine paper with deckled edges tipped in gold.  Dead Alan was a very rich poet.

As for the Pen & Ink, well, their new sign read:  Pen & Ink…Cafe of the Famous Poet Alan Ledewig.  They named a sandwich after Alan, calling it, The Poet’s Delight.  When  ordered, the sandwich came with a napkin filled with some of Alan’s shorter poems.  It was the cafe’s most popular dish.  Pen & Ink became a hang out for poets.  A rope was put around Alan’s table,  in order to stop poets from fighting over who was going to sit in the famous man’s spot.  As time passed, the proprietor watched poets come and go, but he knew none of them were in Alan’s league.  He knew, because he never saw words fall from their tables, pockets, or nibs.   They might be poets, he thought, but they didn’t live their poetry, not the way Alan did.

 

 

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I declare August 28th Gigi Appreciation Day

Today is Gigi’s Birthday, yay!

Happiest of happies to you, Gigi!  ❤

For those of you who are familiar with Gigi of Rethinking Life it will come as no surprise that she is an amazing, talented woman.  If you do not know  her you should go to her blog…REALLY, I mean it!  Here is a link Rethinking Life

Gigi is one of those rare creatures who exude talent through their pores and can do anything…painting, poetry, collages, essays, short stories, photography and on and on!!

In honor of her birthday I would like to share with you some of the GIFTS she shares with all of us.

One of her Watercolor Faces

An Artist Trading Card

A photo from her beloved Chicago Botanic Garden

 

An Upcycled/Steampunk Baby Shoe

 

 

A Collage

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Silence

Sometimes,

I don’t have anything  to say

Please don’t interpret my silence

as indifference

Sometimes,

there is nothing I want to “say out loud”

Please don’t interpret my silence

as coldness

if my words will just bring pain, isn’t it better to ignore?

 

Sometimes,

I feel like I’ve said all that I can say

hasn’t it all been said before?

Sometimes,

in striving for balance

in bridging the distance

we must rely

on silence

~Melanie Thomason

 

 

 

 

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Things We Don’t Discuss ~ a friend’s debut

Hi All!

Do you follow know and/or Maciej at No Kind of Magic?  He is an extremely talented poet and a great friend. I’m so pleased to share his announcement with you 🙂

 

midcoverClick image to buy on Lulu

 

The word is out!!!

March 3, 2015

Today I have a very special announcement to make. I am really excited to say that my first collection of poetry has just been published and and within a couple of days will also be available on amazon!

‘Things we don’t discuss’ includes 22 previously unpublished poems as well as selected pieces known to some of my guests here.

I am not very good at advertising, but if you are interested in buying this humble collection, just click the image in this post. I will also post a link to amazon as soon as possible.

Thank you all for your visits and inspiration I get from you and your works: poems, photos, drawings, thought provoking articles. You encouraged me to do this step.

 

No kind of… Maciej.

 

Also now Available on Amazon!!!…just click the image below:

midcover

 

So, go forth and support this wonderful writer!  

Buy it.  

Read it.

Share it. 

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Filed under Blogging Community, Books, People/Causes I believe In, Poetry

Tune in

Listen closely my friend

Do you hear voices

in the falling rain

and the whispers

on the wind?

Tune in with your soul

find some comfort there

in their sweet refrain

before the nothingness

eats you whole

~Melanie Thomason

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