I am visited by a shade,
She comes
Unexpectedly.
The gifting of a butterfly,
Drifting
To land on my hand.
The sight of a woman walking,
Being
Followed by a pet.
A favorite song, voice breaking,
Joyful,
Reminiscing tears.
Memories of laughter,
Smells of cooking
Fire crackling on hearth…
At times, I expect to look up,
See her,
Eyes twinkling in smile.
Warm feeling of blessedness,
Enfolding,
Knowing love is here.
“The Gift”
by
Jerry E Smith
©4/3/17
image
john-reign-abarintos
back story:
I grew up in the country, in the WOODS of South Georgia, USA.
For the first 15 yrs or so, We lived on a Dirt Road.
In the quiet after supper, before dark, Mama would go out onto the road and walk,
Looking down at her feet as she walked.
I know now she was meditating, after her own fashion
She was ostensibly looking for nails or
Things that would damage the tires of vehicles
As they passed by.
She also found some very old coins, flint, arrow heads and
Pottery (there was a long standing and intense Native American culture
Living here when the Europeans drove them out) and other artifacts.
During these walks, any and all of our pets and free yard animals would follow her
As she walked.
Many times people would slow down to look at the spectacle of
My Mother, the Dog, the Cat, the Pig and the Chicken,
All walking together in a row,
Down our dirt road.
This part written just now, today
©4/3/2019
These .gifs were created for me by @coquiunlimited; many thanks
I am visited by a shade,
She comes
Unexpectedly.
The gifting of a butterfly,
Drifting
To land on my hand.
The sight of a woman walking,
Being
Followed by a pet.
A favorite song, voice breaking,
Joyful,
Reminiscing tears.
Memories of laughter,
Smells of cooking
Fire crackling on hearth…
At times, I expect to look up,
See her,
Eyes twinkling in smile.
Warm feeling of blessedness,
Enfolding,
Knowing love is here.
“The Gift”
by
Jerry E Smith
©4/3/17
image
john-reign-abarintos
back story:
I grew up in the country, in the WOODS of South Georgia, USA.
For the first 15 yrs or so, We lived on a Dirt Road.
In the quiet after supper, before dark, Mama would go out onto the road and walk,
Looking down at her feet as she walked.
I know now she was meditating, after her own fashion
She was ostensibly looking for nails or
Things that would damage the tires of vehicles
As they passed by.
She also found some very old coins, flint, arrow heads and
Pottery (there was a long standing and intense Native American culture
Living here when the Europeans drove them out) and other artifacts.
During these walks, any and all of our pets and free yard animals would follow her
As she walked.
Many times people would slow down to look at the spectacle of
My Mother, the Dog, the Cat, the Pig and the Chicken,
All walking together in a row,
Down our dirt road.
This part written just now, today
©4/3/2019
These .gifs were created for me by @coquiunlimited; many thanks
I grew up in the country, in the WOODS of South Georgia, USA.
For the first 15 yrs or so, We lived on a Dirt Road.
In the quiet after supper, before dark, Mama would go out onto the road and walk,
Looking down at her feet as she walked.
I know now she was meditating, after her own fashion
She was ostensibly looking for nails or
Things that would damage the tires of vehicles
As they passed by.
She also found some very old coins, flint, arrow heads and
Pottery (there was a long standing and intense Native American culture
Living here when the Europeans drove them out) and other artifacts.
During these walks, any and all of our pets and free yard animals would follow her
As she walked.
Many times people would slow down to look at the spectacle of
My Mother, the Dog, the Cat, the Pig and the Chicken,
All walking together in a row,
Down our dirt road.
This part written just now, today
©4/3/2019
These .gifs were created for me by @coquiunlimited; many thanks