Monday, February 15, 2010

"Home" - childhood Connecticut home


I live where,
after a burst of summer rain,
the air smells rich of earth and soil.
Where the sweet green leaves
hug the winding road,
and damp nights
beckon bumpy old toads.

I live where the spring water
runs pure and cool and deep,
and the summer hum of crickets
lull me to sleep.

I live where,
as the night breathes,
the stars sprinkle the earth with an etheral silence.
Where brooks gurgle endless
endless bubbly tunes
and squeaking black bats
dart around a golden moon.

-Zen LaBossiere Honeycutt
about Still Waters, Voluntown, Connecticut
when I was 13 yrs old

I found this in a dusty notebook from my high school days a few weeks ago. It was the seed revived...that I am a good writer. I have something to say and can express it freely. Words are just words until we put them together and create something new. I create images that dance in my head until I let them like ballerinas pirouetting across the page. Growing up so connected to nature had me see the beauty in merely being alive and seeing what was in front of me. Not having television in the house from 4th grade on had me read a hundred times more...imagining...immersing myself in a world of words.
My father read to us at night and as I leaned on his chest and heard his voice rumble, I saw the robbers and kidnappers of "O'Henry's" musings. I loved those stories at night. I loved being outside during the day, laying in the new cool grass of spring...inspecting crawfish hiding in the water's edge...floating in an inner tube in the pond, staring up at the serene blue sky and feeling both an emptiness, a yearning to go somewhere and a fullness of the beauty in the world and the possibilities in life.
To be able to bring words to the wonder I experienced as a child creates the world more vividly for me. I am more alive. I am living and breathing and dancing with what I love.
Thanks for reading.

Zen Honeycutt

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