A journey, an old friend and silence

This untitled piece is by Peter Gallagher
With both arms open wide to the enveloping sense of space, I launch into a journey within my mind to a place beyond the familiar.
The certain knowledge of the past erased and the drawers, full of once useful and long forgotten  keepsakes, pulled open and tipped purposefully upside down on the floor of my ivory tower.
The whiteness of the blank paper is blinding . The potential for rebirth is there in front of me , to be grasped and held preciously in both hands . The future is uncertain but the path of the journey is clear

Early days of Water Story with our dear departed boat woman Morag Anderson

Thoughts on Silence

by Pat Sutherland

Silence

happens rarely

a singular gift

when traffic ceases

or the sky opens

at the end of a peewit’s cry

amplifies itself

when water laps on stones

and leaves rustle

On a shedding tree.

Silence 

spirit-calming 

sound of creation

split by our first cry

in a clamorous world

unwelcome only 

after angry words

Live Session 27th April ~ Dark Hearts and Wild Geese with Mary Oliver

On the wings and among  the starlit, bulging haunches of  Mary Oliver's poems we enjoyed another rich session. Today, for the first time, Tara took us on a short mindfulness meditation between prompts; extraordinary how quickly we all relaxed into that, thank you Tara! Hats off to Sheila, battling with Covid among all her other afflictions; she is soldiering on, recovering slowly, writing plenty and writing powerfully (see below). I can only imagine the chicks starting to hatch on the canal... here are some photos from the past.

Our first prompt today comes from Mary Oliver's well known poem Wild Geese:

wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again

We managed a second prompt from her poem "The Chance to Love Everything"
These last few lines echo the atmosphere of Water Story... writers were invited to use any or all of these lines (or indeed, as ever, anything else that comes to mind) as a writing prompt.


"...
Did I actually reach out my arms
toward it, toward paradise falling, like
the fading of the dearest, wildest hope - 
the dark heart of the story that is all
the reason for its telling?"

Watch this space for more writing coming in. 

Grounded
Sheila Buchanan

My first day out after 5 weeks alone
Roads deserted with runners not cars
Shops boarded up no sound of their tills
No cuckoos around to fly over their nest
Where am I in this world of ours?

It’s the day after my terrible news
My pen is speeding down the page as I relive my terrible dream
I want to scream and break the silence
I am now one of the diagnosed
My mind is racing my heartbeat up
I’m breathing so fast to grab oxygen.

My scan is over I breathe a sigh
I’m told by a doctor wearing a mask
There are changes in my lungs
My mind exploded I cannot hear a thing
Not me, not now. it cannot be real
I head outside with my mask in place
I cannot believe what is happening to me
Tears run down
My throat closes up; feels like a rasp

Now it’s another day all alone with my thoughts
My scribbles overrun the page
My body is sore and very fatigued
It’s the pandemonium of this pandemic as virus crowds my heart and mind.

Should I - Shouldn’t I?

Meeting online means we have May joining us regularly from Inverness. Here is an sunset from there and a poem from May.

Should I - shouldn’t I?
by May McIntyre

It twirls and turns as it glides past my window like a ballet dancer experimenting with new moves.
It’s gone out of my view but still exists.
I know because it exists in my world.- our world- everybody’s world.
Exists in this surreal world we are all living in right now - yes right now- right this minute.

Should I or shouldn’t I?
That’s the question on my lips that has arrived there from my brain which seems to be on lockdown too.
It’s on more than lockdown though - shutdown would be a more accurate description.
Why has it shutdown?
To block out all the sadness that surrounds it?
To try to find happiness again?
Or to just let me be at peace during these turbulent times?

Should I - Shouldn’t I
Go and investigate to see where it has gone on it’s journey on this windy day.
Today I do not know the answer to that question.
Months ago it would not have been a question at all.
How our world has changed when I am in doubt whether I should pick up that piece of rubbish or not!

First Wave

Wonderful to have work rolling in, at this rate I will be able to add new posts every day... keep 'em coming! Today we have our first submission from Louise Terry on the Isle of Cumbrae; she has been joining Water Story via email. And then Helen takes us roaming... in her own inimitable way.

I heard the first wave of the rising tide 
The first death on the island ...

by Louise Terry



Roaming
by Helen Elsley

We have always taken trains.
when our city came too close about us, packed
the car, with boots tumbled in the footwells,
hailed the Skyeways bus from the end of our road
to the Uig ferry, started adventures with
the safety announcements in English and Gaelic.
We took off, treading the bog-myrtle into sharpness,
or placing our feet,
to keep from crushing Grass of Parnassus,
in its gentle wind tilt on Faraid Head.
We swam in gasp-cold sea
and soft lochans that made our Scottish skin
look browned, and our steps sink
in warm peat silt.

Now we walk the hospital grounds
and look out to the Kilpatrick hills
larger than life, on the city edge
where the skylarks will soon circle up,
above our absent, upturned heads.

To Touch or not to Touch

by Sheila Buchanan.... with apologies To Shakespeare (no apologies allowed Sheila!)

To Touch or not to touch
That is the question
Whether it is more dangerous now
To suffer this life or death
The ups and downs of this outrageous fortune
Or to stay indoors and speak to no one
To listen to news and panic
The heartache of these terrible times
A thousand deadly deaths a day
That flesh becomes: ‘tis a cremation
To die to sleep perchance to dream
For in that sleep
What dreams may come of a future soon
When we move beyond this global strife
We will meet again the Queen says.

The original version from Hamlet:

To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep,
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub:
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause—there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.

Hamlet W Shakespeare

"Street Party" ~ Live Session 20/04/20

What a rich session we had today, seeking out a more positive frame of mind by conjuring up the street party at the end of the corona mess. Look at this miraculous writing:

But the real gift today was the sharing of our respective states of mind in these unreal times: the loss of appetite for news, drama, social media and other entertainments. Invaluable insight  came from different group members on mental health compromises (both now and once this is all over) that arise from the current "hyper-vigilance", even though much of it is sub-conscious or even dissociated (Peter had some information on the machinations of the hippocampus in this regard... fascinating, but don't ask me to relay it. Peter?). 

Tara had some mineral recommendations: as much vitamin D as you can, as well as zinc and vit c apparently helps battle any such viruses. She will be sharing a short mindfulness session with us next Monday as part of the session - yay! 

Both Sheila and Pat encouraged us all to be gentle with ourselves given the current shortage of brain space, and May's piece of writing has triggered an idea to design a flag to be waving when we finally have the street party.

Thanks for a quick submission Sandra... come on the rest of you!

Speak>Easy>Street>Party.
by Sandra Walls

Now were out from shielding
Our brains are still in shock
Let’s focus on the future
Don’t get stuck under lock
Let’s put our heads together
And party away in awe
A great big get together
The biggest since the war
Capt. Tom, Moore - millions raised
And medals on lapel proudly displayed
In his hero’s war suit he is dressed

For that street party will be the best.

Our second prompt (that everyone took home because the session came to an end) was

what do I know

This is intended as an antidote to all the fuzzy reporting and unpredictability. In the spirit of Water Story we bring our attention back to our here and now, our own individual and mindful realities and write about one thing that you do know for absolute certain.

Oor Angie...

Just to keep you all entertained during Quarantino... here's our inimitable Angie Strachan... click through to see her performances. Here's her Stanza page...