Friday, June 9, 2017

Into the Wild (My Full Moon Ramblings)


A poetic and photographic journal of my recent trip to Northern Michigan.




light sparkling like glitter 
with no end to the horizon
suddenly the picture seems bigger
and I have more room to rise in


drink in the air 
sing to the breeze
king of the world
sink in your teeth


Steadily I climb
tethered to my past
but encompassed in my future


lady of the woods,
I live on if's and could's
a dreamer's reality
can be more than it seems to be
embedded with symbolism
shrouded in mystery
fractals of mysticism
mixed in with alchemy
equipped with animal magnetism
we are what we chose to be.


I remember a feeling-- its hanging by a thread. 
Barely there, yet it remains, like a time capsule buried long ago;
at the base of a birch tree, three feet deep beneath bark and dirt and all the richness of the earth.
That day I sprinkled seeds in hopes something would grow
from the person I used to be.
I never saw that place again. Until the day I got lost.
I ventured too deeply into the woods, not caring to keep track.
Soon it grew dark, and the sky was moonless, too dark to find my way back.
The trees whispered to one another, and the eerie silence tickled my spine.
With no light to guide me, I followed my intuition.
It took me deeper, into a heavy cloud of fog.
The woods, growing darker, felt like they were evaporating behind me,
and all I could see was what was three feet in front of me.
The fog was dense and humid. I took deep breaths of water.
I sent out a prayer for help, for guidance.
Out of the fog came a single mosquito.
Before I had collected myself enough to react, it bit my left arm.
I shoo it away, and it leaves behind a bead of my blood on the surface of my skin. My life force.
I'm not sure why but this infuriated me. I felt exposed, vulnerable, and worst of all, I was lost.
Frustrated, I tried to gather myself, and regain my sense of direction.

I sit, my back against an oak tree, and when I find the silence, I close my eyes.
When I open them, I squint because there's a light and it is blinding. The fog fades.
And I'm on a train.
It's coming to a stop, and without looking, I know precisely where I am. I get an overwhelming feeling knowing an old friend is waiting for me, and I can't wait to see them. To be reunited. When I make my way off the train, the doors slide open, and for a split second, she's there.

As the vision faded, my heart felt warm. Like fire against snow.
I stood up and shook off the leaves that were stuck to me.
I wasn't scared or frightened anymore. I knew things would be okay.
I held my head up high and walked boldly in what I knew was the right direction.
The fog started to dissipate. My heart sped up. Excited, I walked faster.
I caught a glimpse of a tungsten light in the distance, its familiarity warmed me even more.
My eagerness to reach the light got the best of me.
I tripped on a fallen birch tree.
I sat up, and looked at the tree. Did it fall in the storm last night?
A wonderful, sweet, and rich floral smell lingered in the air. And suddenly I saw them. 
White flowers glowing like little moons. Vines spiraled around the tree like serpents in the night.
The seeds I had planted all those years ago had bloomed.
Everything felt surreal. Am I dreaming? The fog was nowhere to be found.
I looked up to see the clouds part, unveiling blankets of stars, shimmering like diamonds.
Tears filled my eyes. I looked back at the jasmine flowers, and reveled in their aroma.
I traced my fingers across the old and broken down leaves that decorated the earth I sat on before brushing them aside, leaving a patch of dirt exposed.
I put my palms flat on the ground, and I sat in gratitude, breathing in all the divinity of what had just happened to me.
Then I dug. No shovel, just hands. Dirt found a home beneath my finger nails. Mud adorned my wrists, drying like clay and crackling.
I stayed there all night, working at it, digging deeper and taking occasional breaks to bask in the beauty of the stars once the sky had completely cleared.
The ground was still wet from the storm, and the dirt was loosely packed.
By the time the sun began to rise, I could tell I was getting closer, but I was exhausted.
I remembered my vision, and kept going, though my hands were aching.
Birds started to chirp as the sky lit up with colors of cotton candy.
As I dug my hands in, I felt it: the tin box. I pulled out a handful of soil, and brushed my palm against my treasure, revealing its silver surface. How strange it looked against the neutral colors of the forest.
An out-of-this-world element to it. Eventually, I carved it out enough to bring it into my lap.
I sat staring at something I'd seen last seventeen years ago.
Before opening the tin, I sat, bewildered by having been led to this part of myself long forgotten, covered by years and years of wear and tear.
Finally, I open the tin to reveal treasures of my childhood:
A bronze locket with a picture of my childhood dog, Mr Flufferson. How I loved that lil pup.
A dried white rose.
My favorite toy-- a fairy in a purple and pink tutu with glittery dragonfly wings.
A harmonica, old and rusted.
My first watch.. A black-banded Mickey Mouse one.

As I gently pulled out each item, I held them in my hands with a strong sense of nostalgia.. I breathed in the perfumes of my past. When I thought I had seen everything, I noticed a piece of paper folded and placed on the bottom of the tin. It blended in so well, I almost didn't notice it was there. I took it out of the tin very carefully, and opened the note to reveal these words:

So far away, where am I now?
Have I found this, or it is lost forever?
I hope I never lost faith.
I hope I stayed kind.
I have dreams, day and night.
I hope I still smile and laugh.
Do I still imagine? Do I still dream?
Am I the person I wanted to grow up to be?
Dear me. Don't give up, ever. 
Don't forget about me either.
I'm always here.


Wiping a tear from my eye, I put everything back into the tin and stand up to start heading back. Yet, I'm still not completely sure where I am. I buried this time capsule so long ago. I remember it being close to my childhood home though. Mom would never let me wander too far. Oh wait-- the light! That must be it. I turn towards where I saw the tungsten light, now having gone off due to the sunrise. I make my way towards the house, and when I come upon it, another wave of nostalgia hits. My adult eyes see the house, the yard, the land and trees.. But I can't help but remember the magic of this place I felt as a child. It's coming back to me.. I remember leaning up against my favorite tree and reading a book.. I remember chasing butterflies and catching grasshoppers. I remember watching ants communicate with their little antennas.. I remember the dew against my barefeet at dawn.. I remember my dad carrying me from the car to the house when I had fallen asleep on a long drive.. I remember playing in the sprinklers on a summer day. Crazy Daisies.

I take a deep breath, taking in all the magic of the world, remembering the truth of what I am.. Finally reconnecting to my inner child when everything was magic and life was an open book.. I promise to not let her down. I finally see the road.. and make my way back home..

The End.



dusted off memories
waiting to be rediscovered
forgotten for too long
only now being breathed back to life,
polished by time,
and oiled with frankincense

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