Name STONES are driven to the old Gardens. Collections of Rope Birds watch a summary of the summer clouds’ code as rainbow blossoms dance at our twilight by the well – a series of dreams, bubbling up like the dumplings in Grandmother’s big pot.
The dumplings, Oh those dumplings ! Remember how Grandmother made the dumplings for the children ?
How the corn stars would sparkle in the night sky – an array of dreams, ROPE BIRDS flocked at the Bird-Rock Inn looking for corn stars and love. It seems like yesterday when grandmother would sing about the corn stars. ………. Look at the photographs, even at that age she had such beauty & grace. Her voice was a summer cloud that rained down stories & dreams upon all the children, just like the cherry blossoms’ petals drifting down with the breeze. The children gathered up her stories and dreams like the bees gathering nectar from the blossoms
How nicely she decorated Lina’s coil earrings with beautiful blue beads.
Now memories are flowers growing in an ABSTRACT WILDERNESS that was once a garden of childhood. Strange how we would tease Lina and emphasize the width of the collar on her blouse. She would smile through tearful eyes at our silly joke. How childish we were back then. Grandmother would scold us.
Look here, she made a mark on the garden fence, probably representing opened hearts.
Also look who wears a hat in the shape of a bowl and arranges the flowers just so. I can still hear him playing the Pan flute.
Rub the surface of the polished stones some more to catch a present memory. Stan was very good; he kept playing while Lina and Grandmother danced on the grass with flowers in their hair. He played and they danced till it was time to go.
Lady Rysunek was replaced when the butterflies in her feet went to sleep. Did that really happen or was it just one of Grandmother’s songs that I am remembering now ? I must regain my composure.
They did a stress test on the fracture in the bottom of the old well. They stabilized it and with minor repairs the well is completely renewed. Still the water does not seem the same as back then. The water from the well was SO SWEET. Remember ?
We would point at the collar and make little jokes when Lina would sip a drink of that well water. Why did we find it so funny ? I remember the childish laughter, but have lost the joy; except for some new bricks to re-set the top of the old well, it is otherwise intact and original.
Show me some of your polished memory stones. Perhaps they will help me in my Navigation Home – back to Grandmother’s dumplings and ………..
the CORN STARS SPARKLING,
…………a series of stone birds – rope
down the well of time,
blossoms fall gently, a dance
with grandmother, pan pipes singing……..
where rivers and waterfalls undated, fall into the fractured earth, like an old well. Gather up the polished stones of memory and climb into the Light-boat, they blossom into twenty-five wild flowers, an abstract garden, viewed from the distant shore.
Unnamed fruits hang from the ageless boughs; these photographs are undated . They are perpetual footprints on the Grand Sable Star-Dunes
– the Sands of Time,
Fly out of the Well.
– coins without a date pay for the trip with 25 wildflowers.