Tell me the story

Every night
I listened to the twists and turns of words wound with wonder
stories that snuck in before the sleeping
enlivening my dreaming
with kingdoms, castles and crystallised candy

But now that I’m wiser
I read actual articles articulating artefacts
of automobile atrocities
of fact and forecasts
information that never lasts
never remembered

Unlike the land of miracles and magic
of my grandmother who
“Caught a fish THIS BIG!”
and
“Walked uphill
both ways
in the snow
no one ploughed
back in my day.”

Where did these stories go?
That formed my memory and taught me to grow?
I would remember
and re-member the rhythm
the beginning
the middle
the climax
the end
in my soul
These stories that used to transcend
Transforming my truth to no end

But now I lie awake at night
telling myself stories of troubles and tribulations throughout the trajectory of the day

To what end?
How did I lose The Way

Of telling the old stories of serious play
bursting the seams of every line every crack in this soil and dirt
waiting to be heard
waiting for me to listen to the birds
these ancient song lines sewn in the sand of time, of place of space

Hush
…
Listen
…
This Evening.

for the story that will carry you to your dreaming.