anthology of family

A group that shares, one unto the other,
experiences portraying, loyalty, trust,
strength, respect, enjoyment, and pain,
sprang from a primitive game. The
enviorment directed; the group inacted
the eternal theme, survival. Gathering
instinctively in what is now called a family.
Male and female urged to mate, so the
species could propagate. The group binds
tightened, gravity like, pulling relatively. A
seemingly infinite process, from the first
living cores, to the present nuclei, a malinia
of suns and moons spun around the earth.
As ripe, red blood rushes through vessels
spawning corpuscles that light your inner
being. So the family process produces
prophetic knowledge to sustain your outer
scene. First lesson is to gain need gratification
through caring intervention. Flailing arms,
kicking feet, mouth wide open crying for
something to eat. “Patient baby, mother’s
waiting for the bottle to heat.” Lips cornered
up, eyes reflection, father’s coming in baby’s
direction. See your father, strong with a gentle
hand, that what its like to be a man. See your
mother, soft with a caring smile, that what its
like to be a woman. See their model, behind
them you mimicly follow. Lessoning comes too,
from the dinning table. “Jenny Fuller, our next
door neighbor, whose father is that spectacled tailor,
always helped her parents, always stayed even with
social tenants, married a rich and prosperous
fella; hail the community’s Cinderella.
Now family is more to me then knowledge gained
from its company. This occurrence will elaborate
what I mean to communicate. I opened the back
porch door, instantly appearing, a vivid scene that
burned into my memory. The Sun’s, golden, brilliant
rays, dripping everywhere from a light blue haze; Ma,
attentive, hands stretched high, hanging white sheets,
billowing with corners flapping, against a soft and
gentle sky. In that eternal tick, I and the Universe
danced a syncopative kick; an extraordinary experience,
a breathless testimony to the wholeness of my
sanctuary, ecstasy at five.
These words nice that sing of family, but how far can
a branch grow on a single tree. Stifled growth,
contorting from brother and sister branches for
aspiring chances. To be the root and trunk and branch
and leaf, is what personality conceives. To fly to the
top most star, unencumbered. Why else are we uniquely
numbered?
Unique is true, but a number gains value from its context
in sequence. What would a twenty two be without a
twenty three? Thus in that stellar, vacumbed trip, a
lingering comptrail will cut and rip, leaving a light years
span between the traveler and his klan. Then when
isolated from life support who will caringly listen to
your troubled report?
Let me grow amid brother and sister branches,
encumbered, but feeling strength in caring numbers,
gaining wheeling power, for dealing with the frustrations
and complications, of life’s peregrinations. Like the sap
squirting through a tree, the juice of life is the family.

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One Response to anthology of family

  1. Beautiful. I posted your latest blogs on my facebook pages.

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