Friday, September 26, 2003

Gettin cool out there

It's starting to get cool out at night. I think last night we slept with the window closed. Sheesh! It makes me start thinking about winter and cold and the van (Will it make it through another winter) kinds of things.


Up here in Canada you need to stop and consider that the seasons are changing, cause if you don't, it could kill you. I remember talking with a pastor from California. He told me that life for him and his family just continues to roll on. They stop for Christmas day and maybe the day after, but usually things just continue on, without much thought.


I guess that the weather here makes us slow down a bit. It makes us think and take stock and make sure our neighbour is ok.


Anyway, tonight the chill is making me think these things. I don't know if you're into poetry, but I enjoy playing around with it now and then. I came up with this a while ago.


 


Upon a Winter's Night on the Prairies


I awake.


Suddenly I'm trying to recognize the blackness of my room. Where am I?


I smell
zest soap and old polished wood and a musty couch.
Ah, I am safe in my grandmothers livingroom.
I feel her comforter tucked up beneath my chin
and the quiet, moonlit street outside the window
reminds me that I am safe.


Then, it comes again,
the sound that woke me.
The sound of the locomotive horn,
charging through the frozen, December night air,
into my safe, warm refuge - so sharp and clear
it's as if I'm standing right beside the track.
I hear the wheel's - metal on metal - running hard
on the frozen track. Past the elevator, past the
Gulf gas station, along the highway, heading to Winnipeg
and Thunder Bay and Toronto.


Then suddenly, as quickly as it came, it's gone.
Silence envelopes the night, filling up the space that the train left empty in it's wake.


It's quiet and dark.
The moon glow reflects off the cold snow into the window
and I pull the quilt up even tighter beneath my chin
blissfully unaware that for years to come, whenever
I hear a train in the night, I will feel safe and warm and wonderful.


 


Blessings.

3 comments:

  1. Thanks for the words - and the reminder of the sounds that trigger memories of life here on the prairies. It is amazing how sound travels on a cold, clear night.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Wow. Post some more like that.

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  3. Memories are amazing, aren't they? So complete.



    You have a way of writing that brings me right into the memory with you. Quite a gift!



    Thanks (for the memory...).

    ReplyDelete



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