Eavesdrop

Eavesdropping.jpg

 

Eavesdrop

They rose like dinosaurs in the landscape. Long necks of hued metal reaching to the sky. Only their stillness speaking. He listened to them. He, the NightWatchman, the one who hears.

When Ray got the job, he celebrated. They went to Maya’s and the family ate their fill laughing, and later, singing together when the band arrived. Ah, that was a good time.

Ray looked at the monsters lined up ready for work in the morning. 

Strength. 

That’s what he heard as he listened to them. Moving iron beams into place with ease. Even grace. Ray admired that. Grace.

There were a few small clicks bantering back and forth, here and there. 

Ray knew this conversation.

The day was brutal with heat.  As sun set and moon rose, the cool of night made its way into cracks and crevasses between plates and screws. And the instruments relaxed from their craft. A release of all they had accomplished. 

Ray knew this conversation.

Cranes confessed in relief. Some more bold, almost bragging. Others, simply a sigh.

Ray understood.

He welcomes dark
As he moves through his sacred space
Knowing each turn by heart
Flashlight pocketed, ready if needed

The NightWatchman listens
For conversations
Eavesdropping on the day
That no longer speaks with voices
But is captured in silence
Making room for a deeper hearing
For those things forgotten, ignored,
un-acknowledged

The NightWatchman honors the
Unremarkable
Each creak and crack and skitter
knowing the story they tell

Ray reached for his keys, a ring of wonder.

“Hey, Ray, how do you know the right one?”

He smiles and moves on. 

The NightWatchman knows.

 

. . . . .

Author’s Note:

Each group of writers brings a wondrous array of gifts. Unique voices. Wisdom. Compassion. Vulnerability. If it is a strong group, always vulnerability.

We wrote from a simple word prompt: eavesdropping.

On my drive to the session I saw a row of cranes near a water plant all lined up in a multitude of colors. Just the necks, like brontosauruses all in a row waiting for a treat. And “night watchmen” from the radio jumped out and tickled my ear. I don’t hear that word much anymore.

And what was birthed came from those three inspirations today and a lot of support and love from the group.

Blessed be.

Creator’s Waltz

Creator's Waltz

Creator’s Waltz by Lex – watercolor pen and PicMonkey

 

Rest and reflect                then

Step         Step         Rest

See and acknowledge
Take all time needed

Step   Step                  Rest

Deeper understanding

Step                    Step      Rest

Stillness in her crescent

Step             Step            Rest

Compassion for my being

StepStepRest

Perfection in Creation

Step

Step

Rest

 

Author’s Note:

After a deep conversation with a dear friend and coach, we talked about how it seems we are always taking two steps forward and one step back.

A light bulb went on!

In my work with Intentional Creativity I am also learning how to reframe my story. And here was the nugget.

It is not two forward and one back. But a waltz with which we are blessed.

Within that three step, there is wisdom and Light, if I take time to pause.

It is not a move backward, but a stillness calling for reflection.

Not a stoppage to beat myself up for not being perfect. But a resting time to see more clearly that I am perfect just as I was created. I need no work on that piece. Just acknowledgement.

Ah, there’s the rub.

Blessed be.