tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27250202.post114981638111781189..comments2023-09-12T11:00:50.100-05:00Comments on Prodigal Aspersions: I Once Knew SomethingCyn Huddlestonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16698496590225633741noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27250202.post-1149896896609868222006-06-09T18:48:00.000-05:002006-06-09T18:48:00.000-05:00This is such a wonderful poem ... I especially lik...This is such a wonderful poem ... I especially like the part about the things you lost that went they way of your illiteracy. That is so true ... we loose creativity, our connection to other worlds as we grow and become adults. And then we have to go out and hunt them up again and learn to trust again in those other worlds and the things we knew.jzrhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05938966640494785871noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27250202.post-1149862394475782272006-06-09T09:13:00.000-05:002006-06-09T09:13:00.000-05:00I love the imagery of clean sheets. In a house wi...I love the imagery of clean sheets. In a house with 6 people, they happen less than I would like. :) But I remember when my daughter was about 7 and she jumped into her bed and realized the sheets were new and clean. She began doing snow angels and saying "Holy, Holy, Holy" in a singsong voice. I will never forget the Truth in that moment. A moment of newness, redemption and holiness.mrs. kleinerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16667266612616467334noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27250202.post-1149854606201564852006-06-09T07:03:00.000-05:002006-06-09T07:03:00.000-05:00Always listening.Always listening.Cyn Huddlestonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16698496590225633741noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27250202.post-1149847995595396732006-06-09T05:13:00.000-05:002006-06-09T05:13:00.000-05:00I feel ya Cynthia. Lately I've been writing about ...I feel ya Cynthia. <BR/><BR/>Lately I've been writing about some things that have caused me to look back at the pages of my life. I've been trying to make sense of all of them since my divorce back in '98. But until this poem I didn't see them as pages. I saw them as little more than a mess piled up on my desk and shoved toward the back. You know the pile I'm talking about - the pile where that one particular page can be found - it's a blue piece of paper - uhhmmm, about halfway down the stack - yep, there it is see! I told you I could find it!<BR/><BR/>When I needed it I could always find the right memory on the right page, but the stack of papers themselves did not have any value. Maybe now I can begin to think of them as something worth holding onto - or should I? Yes, I must hold on to them, sort through them and stack them appropriately. Then I will put them in a binder and file them on the shelf next to the pages of other men and women who have reconciled their own thoughts. Maybe someday it will all make sense. <BR/><BR/>Thanks for listening.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27250202.post-1149821394391032472006-06-08T21:49:00.000-05:002006-06-08T21:49:00.000-05:00I am so glad RLP pointed you out. I continue to en...I am so glad RLP pointed you out. I continue to enjoy your poetry.anniehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14900362807680333144noreply@blogger.com