Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Skipping stone

This story is for Butter.

Iye cant sweep...wets see if Dogdancing will tells me a bedtime storewee.

Dog?

She stirs and opens her dark sapphire eyes. "hello little one."

You has bin sweeping. Iye can't sweep. Wills you tells mes a bedtime story?

She smiles. "You wish to hear a forest story?"

oh yes!

"Very well, come, young one" she says opening her arms to invite her in.

When the wiggling has ceased, and the little one was all eyes, she begin.

"In the forest there are guardians like me. Made from jagged stones, crumbled rocks of uneven sizes, all crammed together and molded by a life time of pain. But did you know there are other rocks in the forest? Rocks found on the banks of the river, and the shores of the ponds.

Flat ones. Smooth ones. They are special ones, made for one purpose. They're skipping stones.

So special that people hunt a life time for the perfect one. Combing through the rocks for just the right one.

It has to fit just so in your hand....and feel right.

These rocks are shaped by movement, time, and knowing what is right. Much like guardians they too are not born, they are made.

Year after year they tumble and tussle with the seasons waiting for that special day someone comes searching for them.

When the time is right someone will come. They will slowly and carefully go along the shore and pick up rock after rock and hold them in there hand, each heart beat asking, ...is this the one?

Is this the one that is right for this purpose? To skip across the water? Will this one make it all the way across? Will it fly just so?

The goal to effortlessly soar over the water touching it  every so often only to set ripples in motion as it skips across.

Some make it across to clatterly rejoin their brethren on the other side. Others fold under the water and take their ripples to the bottom.

...and some...some have legs. They walk among us and fling themselves where they are needed. Sending out ripples that are far reaching. You can't find them easily. They must be hunted for and found.

And sometimes they find you.

You are blessed if a skipping stone flings themselves for you. Pay attention to the ripples they leave on your life."

Dogdancing closed her eyes and leaned back. "They are known to fling themselves at monsters to protect others."

Hows do day have the courage to do dat?

Dogdancing smiled as she hugged her tighter, "little one, it isn't courage that gives them the strength...Skipping stones have pure hearts."

How they det pure hearts?

Dog pulled the blanket up and tucked little one in. "I already told you.  movement, time, and knowing what is right."

2 comments:

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    1. I can "almost" latch on the singsongy rhythm I write too. I have hopes I can write again some day.

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