OK, thanks to the kindness of strangers, I think I've got this blogroll thing figured out and will be trying, over the next few days, to add a blogroll.
Here's a weekend poem for you while I'm at work.
This is my rock
And here I run
To steal the secret of the sun.
This is my rock
And here come I
Before the night has swept the sky.
This is my rock
This is the place
I meet the evening face to face.
-David McCord
Where is your rock? Have you been there lately?
The Third Time is the Charm
1 month ago
3 comments:
Hey Goddess!
Congratulations on your blog.
And as a matter of fact, I do have a rock. It's called John's Rock. And this boulder sits about 50 yards off the high tide line at Skaket Beach, Orleans, Mass. (that's Cape Cod). It was probably left over from the last ice age, since there are absolutely no big boulders anywhere else near this beach.
And the reason it's called John's Rock is because when my son, John, was 12 or 13, he swam out to the rock and I was sure he was going to drown in the process. I was sitting on the beach with my Mom and yelling at him to swim back in. He couldn't hear me, and kept swimming out to the rock. I panicked and dove in the water to swim after him.
Of course, he was fine. He swam toward me and was laughing. And I felt foolish.
He kids me to this day about my panicking. He was never in any danger. (He's a daddy himself, now).
And that's why we call it John's Rock.
Everyone's grown up, gone and living away from here.
I actually went to Skaket Beach today and saw the rock. It was low tide; a cold, clear January afternoon, sun low in the sky.
I looked at the rock and could almost hear myself calling to John to come in to shore...
I'm adding your blog to my blog site.
Good Going Goddess!
i had a rock. it' was a long time ago. on the edge of loch raven, you may know were that is.
i used to sit on that rock after the jesus years, and that's when i really figured out what spirituality was all about. while i watched the hawks hunt in the morning light, and soar in the evening sun.
i've a feeling it may be covered with asphalt and an apartment complex today, but that rock will never disappear.
Perhaps this is too mundane, but my rock is my home, preferably, but rarely, filled with those I love most in the world.
And it's certainly "the place/I meet the evening face to face" with all that it entails.
Happily, I have a fabulous view of the western sky, and the sunsets are often incredible.
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