Sunday whirl…weird and wonderful

March 24, 2013

Beautiful, beautiful words to play with this week and, once I had an idea, this wrote itself. Except for the pesky word “jar”. Couldn’t manage it even after 17 tries and every possible meaning, so was forced to let poor jar stand on the sidelines like that last schoolchild no one wants to pick to play the game. πŸ™

moss1 copy
disguised, forgotten, country, hurry, tree, wound,
mind, sand, stirred, jar, across, yesterday

Yesterday I followed the pulse of a tree.

My mind was open in the forest’s hush of chirping insect and slicing bird calls and creaking tree joints, when a human heartbeat echoed thru the curvature of the trees and my own heart danced a painful rhythm in response.

I walked on thru shattered sunlight, the carpeted trail forgotten, and the beat and the light intensified until I found the source of the pulse.

A fallen tree. A giant cedar lying with his great arms splayed in a river’s currents, water pounding into the trunk disguised as heartbeat.

He was born to this country and crowned by bird nests and weighed down by long-haired club moss and moved by the winds and the rains and uprooted by vine maples inching over his kingdom.

I pressed my hand into the stringy bark and the throb reverberated up my arm and my fingers came away tingling at seventy beats per minute, a good resting heart rate.

A bit of peeling bark revealed a wound, sap flowing, merging with the river, I leaned in close, the water thump stirred the resting king beneath me and my heart rate slowed down to match his.

And as I pressed my body to his I thought I was a great cedar but I’m a vine maple instead. I am not strong. I’m thin, green and malleable, funny leaves, flattened hands reaching to pet whatever passes, whirligig seeds, not a care what I stand on, marching quickly across sand, loam, rock, in a hurry for a new kingdom to conquer.

But right now my place is at the feet of the cedar, palms open reaching for the rain as it filters down thru the thick protection. Misty vine maple who clings to his rotten feet. Vine maple cowering under the king’s protection. He lives forever, he rules the forest he is vine maple’s shadow.

At night I dream of cedar, tall fish-spine branches and candle-flame seeds. I’m forgetting now, it’s rotting in my mind, the gnarled wilderness of this forest-chest, in soft animal hair curled tight against skin, under wing-twisted clavicles, fingers tracing strings of moss up my spine and out my shoulders folding back and diving toward my waist.

How to study
I really, really wanted to write this post but I'm so moved that I've been staring at a blank page for an hour.

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  • Reply Alicia Ballard StudioGaleria March 24, 2013 at 8:13 am


    • Reply Veronica March 24, 2013 at 8:16 am

      Alicia, it’s a challenge to write a poem using 12 set words. Here’s the link: I really like the discipline and try to write it from the Saturday when the words are posted on FB to Sunday when I post it here. πŸ™‚

  • Reply Stan Ski March 24, 2013 at 9:58 am

    A lovely Sunday afternoon stroll through the woods!

    • Reply Veronica March 24, 2013 at 3:20 pm

      Nice that you could come stroll with me Stan. πŸ™‚

  • Reply Catherine Llewellyn March 24, 2013 at 10:30 am

    your words were fluid – they did not jar with me at all … X

    • Reply Veronica March 24, 2013 at 3:21 pm

      Lol, Catherine. I’m so glad, and thank you. πŸ™‚ x

  • Reply JoAnn Bayne March 24, 2013 at 12:18 pm

    Absolutely fascinating – I could feel the pulse – feel the water – feel the hush. Lovely!!

    • Reply Veronica March 24, 2013 at 3:22 pm

      Thank you JoAnn. πŸ™‚ Love your weekend reflections, off to have a better look.

  • Reply Sabra Bowers March 24, 2013 at 4:42 pm

    You know wood never dies. This is a pulsating piece.

    • Reply Veronica March 24, 2013 at 6:05 pm

      So true Sabra. Thank you. hugs πŸ™‚

  • Reply 1sojournal March 24, 2013 at 6:55 pm

    Love the relativity and the metamorphosis you detail so well, here. Great imagery and tremendous feelings,


    • Reply Veronica March 24, 2013 at 7:38 pm

      Thank you so much Elizabeth. πŸ™‚

  • Reply clawfish March 24, 2013 at 7:45 pm

    I became absorbed in your words , capturing the essence of life so richly

    • Reply Veronica March 24, 2013 at 7:49 pm

      Aw Chris, thank you so much. I’ll hop over and read your whirl first thing tomorrow. πŸ™‚

  • Reply daryledelstein March 25, 2013 at 2:35 am

    good to see you, thanks for the visit … if you attach your email to your comments its easier to reply since not everyone can hop back to see if a comments been commented on while at work .. i rely on replying via email

  • Reply Pamela March 25, 2013 at 8:26 am

    Veronica, that opening pulls the reader right in. Nice writing.


    • Reply Veronica March 25, 2013 at 9:47 am

      Thank you so much Pamela. I’m glad my evil plan of pulling you in worked. πŸ™‚

  • Reply Cathy March 25, 2013 at 10:14 am

    Beautifully written. The Druid in me just love.

    • Reply Veronica March 25, 2013 at 1:51 pm

      Thank you so much Cathy. I think I might feel some of that Druid-ism too. πŸ™‚

  • Reply Sara v March 26, 2013 at 3:52 am

    Veronica that is one awesome piece of writing πŸ™‚ Beautiful words, images and soul

    • Reply Veronica March 26, 2013 at 4:38 am

      Oh thank you Sara. Sometimes I think these whirls are a bit long winded; I just have so much to say! πŸ™‚

  • Reply Sandra L. March 29, 2013 at 1:34 pm

    What a beautiful post!
    You are a very good writer!

    • Reply Veronica March 29, 2013 at 7:10 pm

      Thank you Sandra. πŸ™‚

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