Tag: Childhood Memories
~ He, the One who has given me everything, walks before me; in light that hides in dark places of the forest ~ TFB ~Do not be afraid of them, for there is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known…what I tell you in the dark speak in the daylight…~ Matthew 10:26 ~ The Forgotten Promise … Read More ~ All Warriors, Seers, Executors of the Forgotten Promise ~
I recall a time that we drove underneath a winter moon, with fire in our souls; Lucinda, the Men and me, Michaele Ruby, sharing Christmas whiskey in the backseat of Grandad’s beat up truck. The luminous elixir shook and shone, in moon lit glass, upon our cotton print dresses set in motion by the wind; as we teased our men with promises… They drove … Read More ~Children Running our Shadows Down, the Long Roads of Forever~
~ A child of the shadows dwells between two places; in the ‘Age of Man’ and ‘Beyond the Veil’ ~ This child is born unto a time where Angels cast their light upon the path that must be taken~ During the Winter Solstice, snow falls soft, melting upon the songs of the Dark-eyed Junco and Nuthatch; that carry the secrets of the forest … Read More ~Children of the Shadows~
Marrowbone town is as ancient and orphic as the memory is intimate with secrets. Light is the same at Marrowbone in the morning as it is at dusk, when the sun and star shine, upon silver sheen fog, reach the eyes. One will find many treasures and visions among the souls of townsfolk here. You will find them waiting for you among … Read More Marrowbone Town’s Secrets
~ A Town at Night has its own Secrets ~ ‘A town at night has its own secrets.’ An old woman whispered this into my child’s ear when I was I was growing. I recall the late afternoon she came shuffling down the lane by our house in October, while my Daddy was chopping wood for the coming winter. Dust just … Read More ~ A TOWN AT NIGHT HAS ITS OWN SECRETS ~
Summer Memory at Dripping Springs © by Tommie Flannery Baskis Late summer days linger in hazy dreams before the door of autumn. I find in Dripping Springs an old forgotten rose bush by the white clapboard home, abandoned many, many summers ago. The rotten bird house still clings to a post at the old, Pickett Cemetery; where many children went to dreamin’, laughing and … Read More
‘The Weight of Wings in a Dark Forest’ The Lady of dust and woods, creates thoughts in dreams, upon the weight of wings in a dark forest. Thoughts that shimmer and drape, silk white aether, on the cindered soil of forgotten leaf dust. She, the one they call when shadows no longer follow… Unfolds for a presence of primal sovereignty, grand and hallowed; … Read More ‘The Weight of Wings in a Dark Forest’
Matthew 10:26 “So do not be afraid of them, for there is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed. or hidden that will not be made known… What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight…” Matthew 10:34 “Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I do not come to bring peace, but a sword…” … Read More Angel Blue & Einar, in Iron Forest (I>) Town (e)
I can still hear the deep throaty sound of the cam on his Granddaddy’s flathead V8 truck, as he ripped through the dusty roads of Featherbed Hollow; one of the roads that led to me, that steamy summer. I stood in the doorway, moving my hips slowly to the electric hum of cicada, while Billie Holiday’s ‘The Man I Love’ softly whispered from the back … Read More ‘Dancing in the Doorway, in Featherbed Hollow’
The Lightning Walnut Tree I stand small, in the summer of my innocence, beneath the ancient, lumbering, struck walnut tree. The shimmery haze of Summer sun, hypnotizes me; as I dream of a silver winged storm that struck a jagged, cavernous rip, down the black walnut tree above me. Moving on the lazy porch swing by the river, I remember the pungent green … Read More The Lightning Walnut Tree
Summer Memory at Dripping Springs © by Tommie Flannery Baskis Late summer days, linger; in hazy dreams before the door of autumn. I find in Dripping Springs, an old forgotten rose bush by the white clapboard home; abandoned many, many summers ago. The rotten bird house still clings to a post at the old, Pickett Cemetery; where many children went to dreamin’, laughing … Read More Summer Memory at Dripping Springs, Featured on Rutger Hauer’s – Soap Box Poets
The Child always feels the Power of Presence and its Place among the Living, in our Time of Knowing.
As a child, that always ran towards the sun, I look for things that can never be found. I reach out to ones that have no answer- I see their smiling love, joyful laughter, like whispers in the wind… They are fleeting moments; in a locked time piece. I can hear the distant clock chime, a lonely moment signaling the time is near. It … Read More The Child always feels the Power of Presence and its Place among the Living, in our Time of Knowing.