When I Used to Be Alive
The world was sharply divided.

Looking back, way past the place where you were born and know by heart, There is a long-forgotten reality carefully curated for today’s viewing, Described in florid prose, parsed down to pithy lines designed to impress, To grab attention, and satisfy easily-bored, let’s-get-some-ice-cream minds.
The heart does not forget, not if you allow it to venture where it wants to go, To those forgotten realities where life was hard, brutal, and short. What the heart remembers, if it is allowed to wander, imagine, and dream Is that terribly tough, inexpressibly magnificent simple beauty.
That daily tromp to well or to stream, to battle and to school, was no different From today’s tapping, driving, riding, and rolling out of bed and to the desk. It took courage, devotion, and commitment to do what needs doing No matter what you thought about it or how you felt.
When I used to be alive, the world was sharply divided: known & unknown; Stranger & friend; master & everyone else; holy & profane. Our world looks simpler only to those who are not living with us In our here and now with our daily tromps, rolls, wins, and losses.
Today, when I write a story, ancestors and descendants gather round me, Breath held, smiles ready for that innocent wanderer about to learn a lesson That will forever change everything: her life, his work, their world. I invite my mentors and followers to join me in my adventure:
Once upon a time, someone wanted something they thought they didn’t have….





