The exercise:
Write about: awareness.
Okay, now the box program is officially done for the year. Rather anticlimactically too - I was changing Max's diaper when our final customer arrived to collect her family's produce.
This morning I harvested (well, mostly I just collected things that had already been harvested) for restaurant, bakery, and coffee shop orders, then delivered them after lunch. If we don't have much in the way of locals ordering next week I might actually be able to get everything done on Tuesday.
That would be a nice change.
Mine:
He was oblivious for so long
That his work was very wrong.
He would squander every day
With nothing genuine to say,
A slave to greed's siren song.
We never expected him to change,
With no reason to rearrange
His behaviours or how he thought,
But then one day he was caught
Doing something very strange.
There he was, fashionable and tanned,
The richest man in all the land,
With a new outlook on his life
After the loss of his dear wife,
Now determined to lend a hand.
3 comments:
Congratulations on the end of the box program for another successful year! Well, if you want an exciting end (and given I notice you're catching up on comments again), maybe you use that cannon you're thinking of buying for bowling and set it off to signify both the start and end of the box program? That would be fun!
Your poem today puts me very much in mind of lyrics, and I'm quite curious as to whether you were imagining performing this or singing it when you were writing. The twist at the end is artfully done, and the rhyme scheme is both unusual and very effective.
Awareness
Tap. Tap. Tappity tap.
As awareness gradually filtered into his sleep-sodden brain realised that he felt warm and compressed. His eyes stayed closed, wondering what was wrong. His arms didn't seem able to move much... ah, he'd rolled him up in the sheets in the night again, hadn't he? That's why he couldn't move much. He relaxes again.
Tap. Tao. Tao.
Ok, that was odd. More awareness seeped into his brain, and he realised that someone knocking on his forehead wasn't normal. What the hell was going on?
He opened his eyes, finally back to full consciousness, and found an egg-shaped head inches away from his own; a long spidly, spider-like body stretched out over him, pinning him down, and a bony finger steadily tapping on his forehead like it was trying to find a way in.
He could see his distorted reflection in the shiny skin stretched over the egg-shaped head.
Awareness
I listened to my taped reading from the psychic: "We are here to be expressions of the infinite possibilities in universal awareness, not to be clones of someone else's thoughts, opinions or so-called truth. Take the glow worm: the keywords are a light in the darkness, guidance, new hope, optimism after difficulties. There are few places where one can see glow worms in the wild. Two come to mind: New Zealand and the Gold Coast Hinterland. These are places of nature, gentile, soothing, restful, as rain-forests abound (places of water and earth). It takes effort to see them, an effort that is part of an overall effort at healing, an effort at vacationing, taking time out from the daily round. In the darkness or gloom, in the quiet corners of the mind, their light is gentle, guiding, like tiny glimmers of hope before the horizon of a new day dawns. It is the gentle light of peaceful nights, cooler, restful days, unlike the mad dash of summer sun and glare. Things are not glaringly obvious, they take time to dawn, the insights of awareness are not to be stuffed carelessly into a grab bag of hodge podge ideas, but rather they dawn in one, floating in on the gentlest breeze. Messages from the other side can come in the subtlest of ways, in the slightest stirring of the mind, in the words of a song playing in the background amidst shopping centre noise, on a billboard on the highway, or in the passing wisdom of a toddler's suddenly uttered words. Wisdom is everywhere in the universe, it is knitted into its fabric, and it will guide us, sometimes when we least expect it, but always when we most need it."
It's just what I needed to hear.
Greg - that cannon idea is a fine one, I shall have to forward it on to Kat!
I don't think I was feeling especially musical when I was writing this, so I'm intrigued by your reading of it. And thank you for your kind words on it!
Friggin' hell. You and your creepy scenes. Have you ever written an all out horror story before? Because you probably should.
Writebite - love the message. Some great imagery in there as well, but its the lesson imparted that really struck me.
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