I've been
thinking about what inspires me to write. This morning it was my old toy chest
that I've had since I was a young girl. At the time I didn't appreciate its
fine redwood craftsmanship and hand-hammered iron fittings. I was
more annoyed with the heavy lid that was hard to hold open. Many times it
held captive the toy I absolutely had to have. I wish I knew it's story now. I
wonder where it came from. I know that for most of my life it sat on a patio
waiting for the warm summer months when children probed its contents and came
up with something that they had forgotten they had. It also sat in a garage or
two collecting dust and maybe storing something that seemed important at one
time.
My husband
recently became inspired by it and started restoring it. He loved the
craftsmanship and was enchanted to be reminded that it was a toy chest
from my childhood. He rubbed it with sand paper and mended the top where a
teenage friend of our sons who lived with us one year, sawed a piece of it off
so he could store his clothes inside. He took great care to do these things and
by golly, the way I felt about it changed. I took a photo and wrote a poem
about it and shared it on Facebook. It brought back a memory or two to other
people who were reminded of the places where they kept those things from their
youth that were important. It was no longer just a misfit in the corner of
the patio.
The box sat out on the porch
most days, too heavy to open.
I wonder what was inside
now that I'm too old to remember.
The buckets and pails of summer
and a swimming cap? A ball and
the sandbox toys sift through the years,
yet the box lives on.
most days, too heavy to open.
I wonder what was inside
now that I'm too old to remember.
The buckets and pails of summer
and a swimming cap? A ball and
the sandbox toys sift through the years,
yet the box lives on.
Sanded
now, the colors that were there
melt into the beauty of the muscle used
to change it into a piece of art gone to heart.
melt into the beauty of the muscle used
to change it into a piece of art gone to heart.
It was
one small inspiration in a world full of wondrous things.
The other
day I was taking a walk and had my camera with me. One house I walked by had a
number of decorative angels displayed here and there on their front lawn. I
thought they looked kind of tacky until I took a photo and saw something in the
photograph that I hadn't seen when just looking. It seemed like they were
whispering to each other. This is what they said:
I
hear them giggle, knowing me
for
only breathing words
to
the passing shadows.
What
does she know, they say, of flying
or the taste of a tree?
Martie Odell
Ingebretsen, was born in Pasadena,
California. She studied English literature, creative writing, and child
development at various universities. Inspired by her father—whose stories were
published in the Saturday Evening Post—she has been writing since the second
grade. She strives to create characters that are always learning, growing and
finding answers to big questions. Her poetry has been published in journals,
magazines, and various anthologies. She
and her husband currently live in California, as do their two sons and four
grandchildren. Sweet
William, published by Buddhapuss Ink, is her first novella.
Thanks Martie, that was certainly food for thought. So
many times we're in such a hurry that we miss seeing the beauty and inspiration all around us every day.
READERS: We hope you enjoyed this week's edition
of our #WW Writer Wednesday Series and that we'll see you again next week when we'll
be taking a look at writers' resolutions! Till then, "Butt in chair,
WRITE!
~ The Black Cat
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