When we walk through the world with our eyes open we never know what we'll stumble upon next, but for sure there are just so many interesting people in the world doing so many interesting things that we know we'll not be bored.While in San Francisco two years ago, we (my family and I) found ourselves in a little store that had some really interesting art with little stories accompanying. Turns out, they had cards made by this artist, and books, too.
His name was Brian Andreas, and the company this very original man created was called StoryPeople. About a year ago, after I had been receiving his daily StoryPeople email drawing and story for a while, I attempted to interview Brian for Ennyman's Territory. He expressed interest, but it was not to be at that time because his wife, Ellen Rockne, was in the midst of a battle with cancer.
One evening this past month, while randomly visiting other blogs I stumbled upon Ellen's blog, Unexpected Songs: The Writings and Music of Ellen Rockne. I loved the title so I had to take a bit of it in. It was like finding a piece of hand-crafted jewelry in a field. Knowing that Ellen had been through the cancer ward, this poem especially moved me.
Friday, June 5, 2009 at 6:05PM
(What is the loss that you carry, like an anchor, weighting you to the past?
Sometimes we must be willing to embark before we are certain we are ready).
The Journey
I row my boat over the open sea, no land in sight,
Longing for home. The current carries me awhile,
Then settles to rest alongside my resolve.
Many shores have come and gone in my time on the ocean.
Many dreams have faded to nothing, not
For lack of wishing, but for lack of will.
I sleep a bit, respite from the wonderings
That wash like waves across my tidy craft: Where am I going?
What guiding star have I missed, under cover of cloud?
The night is long (as nights can be).
Then at last, and as always, the sun rises,
Sometimes in mist, sometimes calling to the huge blue sky
Saying, I am come. I am here, the light you waited for in the dark.
Then I take my oars, and breathe the deep salt air,
And begin to row.
One evening this past month, while randomly visiting other blogs I stumbled upon Ellen's blog, Unexpected Songs: The Writings and Music of Ellen Rockne. I loved the title so I had to take a bit of it in. It was like finding a piece of hand-crafted jewelry in a field. Knowing that Ellen had been through the cancer ward, this poem especially moved me.
Friday, June 5, 2009 at 6:05PM
(What is the loss that you carry, like an anchor, weighting you to the past?
Sometimes we must be willing to embark before we are certain we are ready).
The Journey
I row my boat over the open sea, no land in sight,
Longing for home. The current carries me awhile,
Then settles to rest alongside my resolve.
Many shores have come and gone in my time on the ocean.
Many dreams have faded to nothing, not
For lack of wishing, but for lack of will.
I sleep a bit, respite from the wonderings
That wash like waves across my tidy craft: Where am I going?
What guiding star have I missed, under cover of cloud?
The night is long (as nights can be).
Then at last, and as always, the sun rises,
Sometimes in mist, sometimes calling to the huge blue sky
Saying, I am come. I am here, the light you waited for in the dark.
Then I take my oars, and breathe the deep salt air,
And begin to row.
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