There are things,
Priceless things,
That we forget have worth.
We fail to slow down,
Breathe,
Be,
Savor.
I heard something today
Foreign yet familiar.
The popping of a sealing jar,
Sitting warm in the sun,
A product of stained fingers
On hands that start working
Before the sun wakes.
That kind of work,
It’s hard on the bones
But it’s easy on the soul.
The stove never stops boiling
And the pears never stop growing
But there’s laughter at the table.
There’s the retellin’ of that story,
The one where my brother lost his shoe,
Stuck in that creek mud
He was chasing birds.
Play was simpler.
Livin’ was work
But it was work that had love.
I might be up with the chickens
But I saw the sunrise.
Those days are fairy tales now
We tell our children of “back then”
Our soul never quite present
But stuck there in that memory
Of a time with more joy
Stronger faith
And truer words.
It’s as familiar as my skin
But from another time,
A time I’m trying to get back to
But can’t quite get.
I always enjoy reading your poems. They seem to always impress me very much.
Thanks! I really appreciate your encouragement :) especially since you usually read before I’ve caught all the words my kindle dictionary changes for me (grr) ;)
Were you a country girl? I love how wonderful the times were back then! It must’ve been absolutely carefree, fun and adventurous to grow up with farm animals and lots of opportunities to interact with nature, something kids nowadays are lacking due to their overexposure to technology. It’s apparent that this is a very vivid poem that leaves either curiosity or remembrance of a good memory like this behind readers coming from all walks of life. NICE XD
Um, yes and no? I didn’t grow up on a farm but was surrounded by them and I’m constantly telling people that my body of 25 years has a much older soul. I don’t relate very well to this modern society even though I grew up in it and continue to live off of it. I’m at a place in my life where all I really crave is some simplicity and it’s hard to come by.
Oh I see. Yeah like those cottages in Scotland… I find them simple yet beautiful. Bursting with life (you know, nature x) yet peaceful. This society that we’re living in simply worships materialism and perfection. Maybe that’s why it feels uncomfortable for you to live in bcs I don’t feel quite in place too