Category: Writers Block
...for Christmas... The words of a song sung many the years ago in passing while at home and now so many the travels to and from and Finally! settleing in at a little Cafe with some Hot Chocolate and a book of songs musical of the Holiday Season. While leafing through the pages came upon, "I'll Be Home for Christmas," and memories old rekindled and warmth of an inner warm glow of fond times shared with loved ones ...then it happened when words on leafed pages came into a reality of sorts for in the background the music began to play and the words heard were, I'll be home... ... ... As the music was playing the Cafe came to life with smiles of a recognition that Home can easily be found in a little Cafe during the Holidays when Home seems long ago and far away. Home, I am learning can be found in a little Cafe of Stangers that somehow are no longer strangers as journey through life takes us into an aWareness aNew. ..CG here
...at 3 o'clock in the morning and realizing the many multi-task to work in the time for accomplishing this day or one soon yet to be... ... ...HOPefully... ... ... and then realizing I NEED my Rest more-than I Need to be getting-up-out of a warm-and-cosy-comfy bed... Mmm rest it felt so good, might even consider an afternon delight of getting perhaps a few moments of rest, sweet and peaceful rest... ... ... then I suppose some...... ...CG here
...May be Dreamin' of a White Christmas, you know Ccolld and Frosty is the Air of Late Night Winter when Snow Flecks falls on near frozen cheeks... and all it seems we are now in a fog receiving is an abundance of rain, almost chillin' through and through to the bones.. BBbbrrr! Seems if the Snow that folks keep saying is on the way will Finally! arrive .. ... ... then perhaps too a warmth a New shall be brought with the blowing and howling in snow flakes that in leap and bounds fill the vacumn of air spaces ... ... and too fills inner longing vacumns of the air spaces around the chambers of our hearts, our inner persons, ... ... sometimes it is simply being open to the wonderment of Nature in a chorus harmonius with strings of music that lift one from the mundane to a higher plane not prhaps previously known, just reaching forth for the Snowflakes as it were... Mmm, air moistend with Rising Steam as Ice penetrates through the Fog making Spirits Bright! *smile* ...Connie here
...Finally! once again a snowy sheet of Ccolld cooling wet moisture upon the ground upon awakening, well, aWake earlier and still not the promised snow Received and couple of hours later Ahh YES! the Ccolld beauty had arrived. Travels of Home Errands a many to accomplish ... .. and did so or else not at the keyboard a typing in the Present Moments that are a passin' passin' passing.... Songs of Holiday's long ago remembered as a CD of Bing Crosby plays merrily in the background. Lites all multious in color of RainBo Glistening lite-up Mom's Porch 24-hour/7-days a week for these weeks..... Days are Dark Cloudy and the lites ... ... ... Mom talks of the JOY in the Midnight Hours that pass that to her a Sustaining Comfort is BEing provided for by THIS Tree that was added --... ... ..CG/ConnieG here
...and yet another Tree of the Season of this Holiday Festive Time of year has been added. A live potted Pine about 3-ft in height. It came readied with velvet bows of red and ornaments of a gold reindeer and crystal centered golden laced star to mention just a couple of the ornaments a glow to lively touch. Mom is so pleased for this little Tree of Life for it sits quietly on a cloth of woven reds n- greens n- whites ... a memory of her ScotsLands heritage that always honour bestowed in the talking of ... ... Time it continues onward and as the Outdoor Snow it flies and Howels inside warmth of comfort of home makes glad the unitings of Family. ...CG
...In memory can hear,"I'll be home for Christmas," remembering Trees that touched the ceiling from their container floor placed and all so PineFresh the sweet scent of Outdoors calling that beckoned to me as a child to come close to the Indoor Pine with needles that would tickle my outstreatched hand, no needles to be freightened of, just needles given to be more so feathery in touch. As I child I would gather up my Comforter-Quilt and snuggle with pillow-underhead and go for a Camp-Out of sorts under the Indoor Tree of Pine! Such grand the fun... Holidays all aglow and Dad would tell of Stories Long Long ago in a far and distant land of sorts... memories, golden memories and now in an advancement Time of Life... A potted Tree of Pine on the Dinning Room Table with Reindeers that soar through long the Winter's Night.. On dasher, on dancer, on... and on.... ..ConnieG. here
...In memory can recall not Stories of Gandalf and all his crew for those Stories were not the ones given to be shared... ... and yet Now it is on some far away lonely hilltop where snow is just beginning to glisten as children listen to hear sleigh bells in the snow... that Gandalf momentarily brings his Stead to a halt and listens with listening ear to the Stories yet that roll on thorughout all time, the land where branches bare long to hold treasuries of the Season. Why it is a Bird in Flight, no two it is, strange for this Time of the Year for nesting material they have brought with them, nesting treats of yarns all soft and brightly dyed, ...busyily they begin and in a Day complete their Home aNew, a nest fit for those of heritage lengthly... Their chirps can be heard and yet still more can the howlingWinds that are gathering be heard the more so... Night with all it's Frostiness is coming on... Mmmm Wonderous Night! ..CG here
NightTime Magic with a Splendor divine rests heavily on the land. Items from a past time of year are toppled over with new fallen snow... The Birds continue to soar higher than they ever thot possible on Wings that have a Season's year of growth, just a wee bit stronger. Will they endure through long the Winter to come into a Springtime Bliss or meet with a Winterery Chill that sets the hart a flutter to a rushing stop to beat and flutter no more...??
Mmm Deep Deep Deepest Night! So Glorious is the crisp tang of the frosty air that glistens droplets of life when breath takes the air soaring through and through the place where sence of lingering scent is incapsulated. Ahh glory divine and and soo wonderously peaceful. Moonlight looms on the beckoning journey, the pathway that these two Birds of a nesting venture forth onwards on.. and listen they do for in the moonlight, can it be that voices are heard.. Mmm sweetest chords of merryment can be heard echoing on the Distant hillside where young ones gather in Celebratons of the Seasons that are Present in the Days passing...
These little Birds, yearlings you understand snuggled into their nest of softest yarns that spread their wings so as to gently touch one the other's wings in a Friendship of a Love Lasting that through bitter cold howling winds and OH! can it be that Icy Ccolld rain is beginning to drizzle..?? As they questionly wonder a couple of the Youth whose far away distant voices rung so rich in merry melody have all of a sudden or so it seems to be all of a sudden for there they are by the nesting yearling Birds. It seems these two are Young lovers of a sort they are, everyone seems to think their love to be so fleeting and of no substance, and yet here they are with one bearing a mug of Warming HOT Chocolate with Marshmellows mini on top while the other bearing gooey richly chocolately clad S'mores..
the Birds lift up their beaks unbelieving for the scents these have never before been experienced and then it is the drizzle begins. The Young Youth seem to take a halting and then leave the S'more on a lowly branch just within reach of the yearling Birds while the mug they perch by a fallen log on the snowy ground now growing soggy soaking wet. Then off they scamper to the Ones they with when music they sang so richly and hartily..
This visit of the Young Youth so unexpected and more so unexpected this Special Treat that gives to them a warmth of comfort not till now known as in the drizzle they partake of the gift received and .. and .. and .. why! there HOPS! a Bunny Rabbit from out of the fallen log and seems to give a tilt of the head and seems to wave a paw and out HOPS! yet another Bunny! Mini marshmellows in a now cooling beverage of once HOT Chocolate for Bunnies.. Young Birds of yearling age seems almost a smiling Chirp Chirp to be Chirping forth to make for hmm now Choolate Marshmellow Bunnies at the Time of Winter Holidays all aglow! What Next!?!?! Well it is that refreshment has been received and now gentle and tender wing holding of one the other in the mist of downpouring bitter cold as the drizzle continues while Bunnies HOP back into the fallen log, contented and filled and out of the chilling drizzle, for them it is a winters rest all cuddled in and secure they find. ..CG here
...secure they find the joy of being together out and away from the "City Bunnies" they have only heard about, Bunnies caged and locked up and oh so miserable they must surely be... ... ... but here they are, tucked away in a fallen log with warm soothing chocolate giving warmth to their inner bunny-selves and then the snuggleing of furred body against furred body and a nuzzle of their noses... ... soon the drizzle sounds hitting on the outside of thir log home seems to stop and somehow the air where they are grows warmer, the "just right" kind of warmth and off they go to slumber sleep...
During this time as the drizzle has continued, a bitter cold drizzle it is, the yearling Birds have found a relief in the partaking of the S'mores. It is such grand the treat never before experienced and as one yearling takes a peck of the treat then that one gentley feeds the morsal somehow seeming sent from angels to the other yearling and thus in like manner does the yearling that has received of the morsal and downed it, then partakes of the S'mores of the branch nearby and gives to the yearling Bird by its side... such a sharing of love, of closeness, of weathering out this most cruel Storm. Why the moments seem to fly and in a couple of hours of passing the time by sharing of the morsals of the S'mores, the giving of one to the other, well, it seems at long last the drizzle seems to have fizzled and can it be? Can it be? Oh such wonderment for the Biggest most Fluffy SnowFlakes begin to descend. These flakes of snow have not cold seemingly contained, rather the air contained within them as cotten batten, that fluffyness in the middle of quilts, well, so it seems these SnowFlakes are warming to the yealing Birds. With wings interwinged they rest heads upon each shoulds as it were and... off ... to .... dreaminess as new fallen snow fills up their nest of wollen yarns....
For yearling Birds their nest seems to have reached an Upmost advancement in design. For the woolen yarns somehow keep the yearlings in a way that say thermol undergarments does to those who too are given to weather the Storms on all fronts of adventures. Must have been that a little birdie from someplace of another time shared these secrets of how to get along in the most least advantaged times of all with these yearlings. So as they are given to be wing interwinged and shoulders of one the other feels gentle stirring of air as soft breaths emerge they are surprized to hear sounds not before heard....
...why it is the sound of Crunch Crunch Ccoolld Crunch Crunch underfoot and the Young Youths that apppeared on the evening before the coldest of wet drizzle descended have returned. Their laughter and gaiety... ... and for so early a time in the morning, why the sun has barely peeked through the sky where biggest fluffiest snowflakes fell making all deep snow laden the earth. Crunch Crunch can continually be heard and... such gentle sweet love, the mitted hand enclosed within the other's gloved hand, the running, tumbleing and snowball throwing and all puncuated with a kiss and a hug to then be followed by more running and laughter. Now, where is that cup we left? I know it must be here somewheres... Even though dark it was yet that bare branched tree I remember bumping into and there theres that log. Hey! what do you mean puling me down on the log there beside you. Ahh some frocklicking... No fair washing my face with snow! Here, have some ICY Snow down the back of your shirt. Now, come on we must find that cup, it is part of a valued set of Aunties and then ... .... what?
...I feel someting give under my foot. Where? Here, and by this pocket of air by this log where a bit of a tree bark has fallen, has seemingly given way under the weight of the water of the drizzle that fell in the passing night... You don't suppose..?? Here give me to look, you are all toes feeling and body bumping into branches...I do believe it is that you see with...
..You can't hardly ever bring yourself to say the words can you..?? You realize don't you that my blindness from birth I accepted a long long time ago and it is you with all the questions...questions from you I have always welcomed , knowing that is the only way for others to learn...
...and it is because questions you ask and never once have I felt.. felt .. felt somehow less than others... I suppose the opposite is rather more so the situation for by ones such as yourself I am given to be more the leader, the one outspoken, the one who takes the lead rather than being a follower...you know being a follower I detest for I should rather go where no pathway is and create one for others to follow on if they so should choose... Well? Is that your Aunties beloved and most highly treasured cup or not?? ..well, so it seems it is and we shant now fear for our lives... Good! now, here... Hay What? up with the tackle! You know this cup I have to get back in one piece... You and THAT cup or it is you are running from me and using that cup as excuse...
....maybe a little bit of both. Before leaving this most way out in the middle of seemingly nowhere place and feeling the warmth of a new and gentle love, well, at least deep affection, being formed, the Ones Young paused not understanding the carefreeness of the NOWness they were experiencing... It would be years later when the memories now being made would be unlocked from behind walls that life would somehow give for them to build .... .... ... and then too moments in passing later when the walls would shadder as New Interests would enter and Young Love would once again be experienced.... only on deeper and different levels,.... ... ... Life Cycles continue ... love continues... when a mittened hand enters into your gloved hand as it were... grab hold and allow for walls of infifference to break. Be free in spirit to reach to another and both give and receive deep care, compassion and good times sharing.... CG/Connie here