14/365 Wood

Ten minute free-write*, on Wood.

Wood ages in circles around my eyes.  How does it die, I wonder.  Good wood for chopping up and using for a fire.  The flames licking the air, while smoke trails upward, swirling.
Wood cabins smelling of pine, so rich, you just breathe it in, let it fill your senses, and then admire the rich amber tones of the wood, gleaming on the wall.  This is how it was in the cabins at Rip Van Winkle's motorlodge, in the Catskill mountains.  How many night before bed did I look at the wood and feel a certain wonder.
I hve  a big chunk of cedar on my key chain--it was carved just a little to bring out it's best.  I love the way it feels curving upon my fingerstips.
Being around a sacred fire, where each piece of wood was placed with intention in all the directions, to the East and West, North and South, to Father Sky and Mother Earth.

*A free-write is a type of automatic writing, where you just go with your stream of consciousness non-stop. There's no thought to spelling or grammar, and no editing of words. Supposedly this opens the mind up to greater creativity. They can be 5, 10 or 20 minutes long.

Visit Evie, whom I freewrite with, at the space between colors.

4/365 trees and rooftops

Evie (the space between colors) and I have decided to do a free-write a day, thus my numbering them in the title of this post.  Counting railroads, flowers, and buildings as the first 3.  Instead of our usual 5 minutes, we've now progressed to 10.

Today's subjects ended up being a duo...  so...

on Trees and Rooftops

I can see the trees above the rooftops of my neighbors.
All strange people I don't know,
But I can smell their barbeques in the the summertime.

I have smelled the fragrance deep within the trees, of
sandelwood and cedar.  Deep mossy notes that fill
a man's cologne.

There beyond the rooftops, trees dwell,
emitting their own fragrance of oak and maple.
Birds dance upon their branches.
Songsters herald the summer days.

My eyes shift now to the rooftops themselves,

painted silvery while.  I remember sunbathing
on the roof, and doing yoga in the bright summer sun.

Round and round my mind goes back to wood and
rings of age. 
Such are the rings under my eyes.
What part of me is Wood?

Wood, the element... Chinese Medicine:
the Liver and Gallbladder, Spring, the Eastern dirction.
The sour taste.  The sound of yelling.
Wood "opens" to the eyes.

I still remember.