Into the wildwoods….
Next to the tool shed dries a
growing stack of fragrant wood
full of stories just waiting for
cooler nights and bonfires.
For years the logs and limbs
saved aside from our tree work
told stories of my own white knuckles
tightly squeezing the pull ropes
while chain saws screamed
through the last cut and tall trees began to crack and barrel toward the earth and the people I love.
Always I was there,
hands on the ropes.
I felt better that way.
Helpful. Hovery.
Closer to the pencil…..quick to tweak the story.
This year’s pile is a wonder to me.
I don’t know this wood.
It tells their stories…..the wild adventures of sons become men.
I still love the loud crack and splinter as fibers yield to gravity and the tug of the ropes.
And the thundering thud that shakes the ground and erupts with smells of Christmastime
and crisp moonlit nights.
And I’ll still toast my toes by dancing flames as the fire pops and flickers
and smile at the aliveness as their stories flow like ale from their mugs
overflowing with the stuff of life in the wildwoods.
But now I’ll lean back and slowly savor the tang of my own story silently singing
from fresh stretch marks on my heart
of fewer fingerprints,
and ropes released
as I let go
and get out of the way
….trusting them into hands that are bigger and stronger than mine.
Oh Girlfriend, you do have a way with words…I could sit and read your thoughts all day and I always find a common thread among them….
Letting go seems to be a lifelong process for me but that's OK as long as I keep moving forward……
I just smell the wood burning in the fireplace, my toes reaching for the warmth and sitting with my thoughts of friends like you….You make it all seem so real…..
Have a great day sweet friend,
You are very talented with words, thankyou for sharing your work with us here.
Your words are so deeply touching. I could read your posts for hours…
Jen, such depth and beauty. Thank you dear one. Love the message. Blessings.
I love it when a write actually comments on my blog. It makes me feel like you left a poem there.
Your imagery is just as beautiful as your inspiring words here at this lovely posts.
I dreamed about you last night. Seriously, I did. Isn't that kind of weird. I was in this cool old mall in Salem, Oregon when some cards and art I loved caught my eye. As I looked closer I realized it was your art. Then I saw you and you looked just like your photo id here. (Imagine that.) I approached you and…
I woke up. Still.
That's the truth, m'am.
I was just over at Mary's crying and now I'm crying again for you because of feeling and knowing those painful feelings when momma's have to let go. I seem to grieve sooooo long and hard myself. You have such a gift Jennifer with putting your heart out there in beautiful words. And your art is wonderful too. I love this card. It truly is a gift you have my dear. So glad I found you and this here lovely blog.
Hugs,
Lee Ann
I was just over at Mary's crying and now I'm crying again for you because of feeling and knowing those painful feelings when momma's have to let go. I seem to grieve sooooo long and hard myself. You have such a gift Jennifer with putting your heart out there in beautiful words. And your art is wonderful too. I love this card. It truly is a gift you have my dear. So glad I found you and this here lovely blog.
Hugs,
Lee Ann
Girl, one more for the book! I'm always right there with you, living the stories as you unfold them, and that last line, 'fresh stretch marks on my heart..' WOW! what I love besides how you write is that you allow your heart to be stretched, and do release your grip as all that you love learns to be fully their own person.
Inspirational all way round.
oh what a storytellers heart you have. such a beautiful gift Jeniffer.
Jesus spoke truth through stories, you do to!
now stretch marks on the heart is about the only place I want to see them on me!!!! 🙂 and I do want to see them on me!!!!!
when God began this new work in me, of really waking me up from my sleep, the story "The Grinch" came to mind – of his heart growing – there was pain in the growing of it as I recall.
Hugs!!
What a lovely post!
Love your post Jennifer, I can almost smell that wood burning and heating my surroundings., Thanks for sharing. Blessings Patricia
It's so very hard to let go, isn't it? I find over and over again that the real job of parenthood is to let go. Daily. Sometimes hourly. I am so thankful that His hands are big enough.