Stepping Stones

Stop. Just stop.
listen. Listen to the past
whispering its wisdoms.

There is the first wail;
self-centring breath
that states; "I am here!"

The comforting smell of
puppy pee; cherished
subconsciously among
the clapboard memories
of cornstalks
and small town blocks
hiding the view of the
wider world.

I am here, having reached
the shore, smooth stones
warming my feet in the sunset,
salt tang on my tongue.

The journey is my returning.

I have found nothing better
than your smile.

Bruce Herbert Fader 10-30-2008 03:53

Where the heck you been? I was looking all over for you. You never call, you never write. You just wander off, no consideration for those of us trying to find you. GO TO YOUR ROOM!!!!

Oh, good job on the poem. I had a puppy who peed on everything. I took him to Mexico one trip and while I was there, they changed the requirements for bringing him back. He speaks Spanish now, and likes to lay against a cactus doing a siesta. He is happy in Mexico, but we spend less and less time down there, so I don't get to see him much.
The rest of the poem is a wonderful bypass to otherness. Neat, Bruce,

Stay warm... tee heeee....

One of our prodigal poets - returned to hearth and home. Hope the gaps between visits won't be so lengthy this time, although, I certainly understand how life can keep us from doing all the things we'd like to do.

Good to see you back, Bruce. Nice poem, although I can think of many smells more comforting than puppy pee....newly mown hay, bread baking in a brick oven, a freshly bathed and powdered baby, etc., etc., etc.

Do stay around, if at all possible.

Joe

Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 10/30/2008 03:35PM by hpesoj.

This is beautiful , Bruce! I really love the internal rhymes and the strong spirit of your poem! Wonderful to read your work here!

K.Q.

Hi Brucefur. Good to see you on the board. The poem is a little obscure for me, but it almost seems to be pointing to reincarnation or rebirth?

Mary

the journey is my returning


hey, that's good stuff, bruce. and good to see you here. what a life-the way we can return to ourselves. a full circle. love the sensation of warming your feet on smooth stones. a well-trod poem.

I'd like a telescope so strong I could see the back of my head.

if the power of such scope were powerful enough, then it seems to me that we'd finally be able to amend that saying about never knowing if we were coming or going. it'd be all the same....or...hmmm...would it?

where is our local physics master when i have a question for him??

Oh hey Bruce, what happened to the site?

If you come or go, depend entirely on the destination and the attitude of the travler, I prefer to be going. Coming presusposses an end to the journey when you arrive. Going however can be infinite. Such as now, I am going to the kitchen to bake a cocoa. That will seem to take forever.

Relativity in action.

Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 11/11/2021 10:50AM by Merc.

i bought my first physics book on the 8th.

now, would you believe that baking cocoa is, in fact, covered on page 121. i should have just waited a few more days and read this post. but at least the book has illustrations.

coming and goings

there's a word in German: Gelassenheit related by Heidegger to the paths in the woods that have not predetermined destination I like those paths GOING just as you do Terry

Pete

I find this line particularly relevant, Bruce. Good to see your name on the board.

The journey is my returning.


Les

The English translation is meander.

Hi folks,

Thanks for all the comments, but this time I am just stomping on through with my boots still on, but I will be back.

Perc,

I bought a house and ran out of money so Cosmic is down. I started the rebuilding process last night and hope to have the site back by January 2009 at the latest.

Brucefur

Hi all,

I see I very nearly broke my promise to be back; got smoked at 50 mph by a full sized pickup truck on February 1st, 2009 and would most likely be in traction if it wasn't for all those years of kendo and fencing that had me just flow through the impact without tensing up. In fact the guy in the truck is worse off I think. No worries, other than 4 stitches and a bruised rib that is driving me bonkers, I am fine (left walking anyway). Now I am fighting with Crown run insurance brokers/judges/jury/executioners and trying to get a lawyer to understand that there is a difference between snow drifts and snowbanks that created by city negligence. I had two choices prior to impact; doing what I did or waiting for the snow to melt till I could see clearly (sometime in April).

KQ, took me several rereads to see my own internal rhyme in this one. Nice catch! :0)

Terry, I have been thinking of Ell lately (as per the GO TO YOUR ROOM (you remember her poem by the same name?)), have you heard from her at all? I am very concerned, because I have heard very little since she survived the breast cancer. :0(

Peter, sounds a lot like the Robert Frost poem, "The Road Not Taken," or is that less taken? It escapes me at the moment.

Les, thank you. Poetry has been a struggle for me this last year as I am too focused on work, which seems to act as a kind of noose to inspiration; at least with me.

Marty, it is about childhood reminiscence for the most part and how those experiences brought us to where we are now. Ever heard that query, "if you could go back in time and change anything; would you?" My answer is always no; otherwise I would be somewhere/one other than who I am and I am pretty happy being me. :0)

Mitts, you got it, you smart cookie you! lol.

Joe, it was that stray memory of puppy pee that got me thinking and therefore writing. Without the memory of that very distinct smell, I wouldn't have the same recollection of two of my very first dogs; Fanny and Buffy. Buffy died all too young and so all memories of him are precious to me. I don't let myself bond to anything like that anymore; not since my dog, Taboo died. It just hurts too much once they are gone.

Brucefur

I really enjoyed this one. many excellent elements.

I had a phone number for her in Denburg. Ate a wonderful piece of completely dead cow one night whislt there amongst her company. Tried to call a couple of times since then, nada.
Will try every single time I am in Broomfield's subburb.
Take care, don't get into any wreaks.. They will leave a red mark.
tlj