Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Ghost Letters: #1


I've been thinking about that summer, your last summer. We were sitting under a tree at the tea house on Canyon Road admiring the glass infuser in which the tea was resting, talking about ghosts, history, the new artist you'd brought into the gallery, your plans for me in that old adobe house filled with paintings, and shadows on the wall. We knew you were leaving this world and you wanted to make things good for me before you left. It was a good plan.

But, the house proved too dark, the ghosts too real.

Now, it's summer again. You've been gone nine years. I'm back in Minnesota sipping my morning tea, watching shadows on the lawn ... yellow and green, light and dark. In the distance, a gleam of red from the old coffee can that's now a birdhouse. Inside, a mother wren caring for her babies.







Painting, "Healing Tea," by Cynthia Rowland: http://rowlandart-science.com/

24 comments:

  1. Beautiful and poignant, Teresa, and what a positive, life-affirming note to end on.

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    1. Thank you so much, George. I'm glad you felt what I was trying to convey.

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  2. Thank you for a lovely blog post. A little paragraph of words which spoke volumes.

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    1. Thank you so much, Molly. It's lovely to hear from you.

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  3. Why do I feel like on some level everyone knew you'd end up back in Minnesota? This short piece was very moving, inspirational, and poignant. Thank you Teresa.

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    1. Even a Native American shaman "predicted" it with divining rods. I know, weird, but he was right. I was mad at him at the time and in denial until a few months later, when I just KNEW on a higher level I was going home. I have some beautiful memories of Santa Fe, and can look back on it as a wonderful time in my life. As this one is. :)

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  4. .
    Truly felt the magnificent wonder of transition with this piece,
    Yes poignant indeed, very moving.

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    1. What a lovely comment. Thank you so much.

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  5. Teresa, this is so poignant, wistful, sad, and hopeful as well. It reads, dear one, like a fine cup of tea. Thank you.

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    1. Thank you, Penny. I deeply appreciate your response.

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  6. There's love, sadness and strength in this poem. I am moved by it.

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    1. ...and in me ...I'm glad it moved you. Thank you, Geo.

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  7. Teresa, you have a wonderful manner of calmness and hope.

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    1. Thank you, very much, for those very kind words.

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  8. Dear Teresa, the arc of your story, told in words that evoke such vivid imagery, made me sigh deeply when I got to the final period. And there I end with a mother feeding had child. And all shall be well. Peace.

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    1. Yes, "all shall be well." Thank you, Dee.

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  9. Rebirth at your place -- partially a gift of new life from a mother wren.

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    1. Yes, exactly so ... I have been blessed to witness some amazing things in the natural world here.

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  10. One of the things I often say is that I prefer writing which is deeply personal, but not confessional. This is a perfect example of just that. Beautiful, Teresa.

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    1. Thank you. I agree completely. I have never been keen on confessional writing. I'm so grateful for your comments.

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  11. Beautifully written. May the bond between you and that mother wren--and all things in the place that is your place--be ever blessed.

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  12. Nothing Wasted:Nothing Gone.

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    1. Wonderful thought ... you're absolutely right ... so good to see you again ...

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