A Writing After the Sunday Circle
when we met despite there being no electricity in Emily's House,
and it was cold!!
by Doris Russell
stones as a story
rocks, magic rocks are people
putting inscriptions on stone/rocks
a good idea.
when people come together at emmy's house
children gathering in a tree house
a root growing in the living room
the corners of the house sprouting roots and
digging itself into the earth.
rooted there among the forest
there among the winter trees.
no heat, no electricity
just a fire
with ten excited children gathered
around the fireplace for warmth.
i saw us as a group of children,
once we stepped through the door of emmy's treehouse
our forms of womanhood were thrown aside
and we were those wild childish children once again.
whooping with laughter,
giggling with joy.
merry merry little children
from the ages of 7 to 11.
we sat around and told stories and laughed
at each other's nonsense.
we felt sad about sally's cancer but she was one of the group.
there for a purpose.
there for us to see.
and the one with the curly black hair and the two young babes
of her own - she left them and became one of us for a few hours.
she laughed and was sad
and she laughed and was happy
then as she stepped over the doorjamb back into the sunlight
she became the woman that she was, the mother and courageous
being of the moment, fortified in thought for the moment to
become all that she is.
we come to emmy's house as women
and shed our outer garments once
we cross the doorjamb into emily's living room.
oh, it's a blessing to see.
a delight to smile about.
we have a secret you see.
each one of us has a secret
and when we are together a little bit of that
secret starts to unfold
and we look in amazement at each other.
why i know her you say each to the other
that's me in audrey's silence.
that's me in peggy's laugh.
that's me in emmy's wisdom.
that's me in doris' comfort
and so on and so forth and on and on we go.
just mesmerized by each other
and we can't help but laugh and giggle as we
become those little girls of yesterday - but
with a little more understanding of what we were
and what we are in the present moment of emmy's treehouse.
