This is not a story, but it is "me"... and describes how I have become one "rocky" woman. Here's the poem I wrote about 20 years ago. It's worth a chuckle or two.
Scripture says, “the rocks ... cry out” --
(My out-of-context translation)
And they did.
[They really did!]
[They really did!]
I planned to not take some home.
(That is what I planned!)
But they would have none of it.
They shouted to me
to rescue them -- take them away --away from battering waves and
freezing blasts of wind --
Shouted with colors
and sparkles
and barnacle-patterned mouths.
and sparkles
and barnacle-patterned mouths.
And I !!stopped!! --
oh, just for a moment --
oh, just for a moment --
just for a short glance.
And they grabbed me --
my heart, my soul, my arm --
and forced me to pick them up --
until they over-flowed,
first hand-- and then pocket,
first hand-- and then pocket,
and finally made a temporary lodging
pouched in my over-sized sweatshirt.
[Taking me to the shore and saying “no rocks” --
is akin to taking a
three-year-old
to a penny-candy store and saying,
to a penny-candy store and saying,
“We’re only looking.”]
====================================
At a Lake Superior beach I sat on rocks, happily, at Minnesota Tettegouche State Park. Today, a large number rocks live in my house and yard [and car and backpack and jackets, and purses]. Sometimes I have thought I should stop bringing rocks home... from our States and other countries [Uganda, England, Costa Rica, Morocco]... but they simply can't be set aside. I love them too much. [Hope God keeps a few in Paradise.... just for me.]
8 comments:
This is such a fun poem! My little sister was a rock collector too. She had baskets-full of them.
The poem was fun, CaryJo! I live on Long Island off New York City, by the beach. I love rocks! The north side of Long Island is the Sound between Connecticut and Long Island. The shoreline is all rocks and boulders.
The south side of the Island is the Atlantic Ocean. Nice sandy shoreline - but, no rocks! Give me the North shore any day!
We have one special funny rock that we carry to each place that we live. Thank you for sharing your passion about rocks and their voices that cry out to you "Take me, take me," at Tell me a story. Your poem says it all.
Great personification and imagery. I can see those rocks 'pleading' with you!:>)
Terrific poem! You gave nme an idea for my kids---to take something that really appeals to them and write a personification poem about it. I envision beat-up trucks challenging a boy to fix him up.
This really gives us a fun insight into you. I like you more and more friend! BTW, more posts and more 'me' have emerged on my blog. Thanks friend--God and I had a talk!:>)
I always enjoy seeing your rock collection and watching it grow as you travel. Our Omaha kids also collect rocks of ALL sizes when they travel. Good souvenirs and made by God. Thanks for giving me a chuckle at bedtime.
Me
You would love Esther Joys blog "the Rocks cry Out." She writes scripture on them and they are really something. One day I hope to do some of that. I believe I would pile up a whole lot and build an Altar to the Lord. Blessings sent. XX
I love the joy and wonder that oozes from this post. I love your playful heart, and your attention to the beauty in the common things. Thank you for linking up. I always enjoy your stories.
How fun that you've got a poem from long ago! With five kids who always seem to leave rocks in their pockets, I totally understand the compulsion to take a few rocks home from WHEREVER we are. I've got rocks in baskets and bowls around here- our own little Gilgals :)
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