TO ALL: Apologies, I had inadvertently left Only Paid Comments on, (damn!) I think. I think "Everyone Can Comment" should be the default. Anyway, I've fixed it. Apologies to anyone who might have wanted to comment. :)
Rust of dying pines needles and dust upwells behind a middle aged couple and dog careening into a crashing; life-splitting —perhaps , a cord of wood for a fire that conflagration in the distance , yet a pebble skips across still waters ; leaves me wanting to see life and death — life rekindled with a couples love igniting with new energy, yet I feel like the flat pebble skipped on the surface and then it sinks to the bottom to blend with the sands of time. There’s more to life, yet I feel the last breath is taken away and I am left to be found somewhere in a forest wanting to be a Phoenix resurrected.
I saved your story to read before retiring to have as a stimulus to my own dream world. Perhaps if my subconscious pursues this story further I’ll let you know when the sun rises and filters light between the pine needles that are still green from nourishing rain.
Sometimes, when I write imagery like the skimming stone, so beautifully balanced between gravity and trajectory, momentarily in flight, always destined to sink, I’m playing with the idea of death and inevitability and the astounding beauty of the current moment. So, that you’ve seen this and responded so eloquently makes me feel my writing is seen. For that Richard, I’m truly grateful.
Let me know if these spirits reassemble in your dreams :)
I will soon enter the forest of shadows and with a celestial light return from my travels with a pebble I hope to find and retrieve it for you, describe the texture and color (s).
2:32am knitting needles drop from trees to roll balls of yarn to knit tales to tell and when finished the twines been woven into a scarf worn down the forest paths knots twisted together and dyed with autumn tones to color songs of woe with weeping snow drifts the wind blows.
Never found a pebble only brought you some words from shadows.
I may have read this when you first posted it, Jonathan, and I know I read your follow-up on March 9 (The Shimmering Delicacy of Fragile Things). I remember because I cross-linked that post to my ‘stack but it went to the first version of my Substack which is now inactive. I just checked and it’s still there.
Thank you so much Paul. I'm so honored because I also love your poetry and the way you always write such noble and righteous themes. So it's a real pleasure to know that you're finding connection here. I remember you were one of the first people to comment on my earliest pieces (Scribble And Shout) where you said "I think The Crow will end up being, perhaps, your greatest love poem, Jonathan." And you were right Paul. I do so love writing here!
This sent my mind into eddying dimensions, overlapping yet distant in time and space. How am I only just discovering your writing now?! I must go back for more.
This made me cry, unexpectedly! Not tears of sadness, but the touching on something that is so vast and so universal.
I have just discovered you here Jonathon and there is something about your writing that resonates with me in every breath, every word. Such beautiful tender, poignancy.
It's like you are saying the words that I have within me but they don't come out quite the same when I write them! Thank you. 😊🙏
That is such a beautiful and generous comment Jo, thank you. I'm so glad you happened upon The Crow and I'm grateful you're taking the time to read. Thank you.
Jeez, I have my own interpretation, but I’m not even going to begin to lay that out. Could be many pages. I will borrow a word from Troy, haunting. And mesmerizing .
“…twinkling of a billion tiny shards of light bouncing off their retinas in exploding moments of a new birthed Now.”
And, I will definitely borrow from the incredible Rod Serling;
“There is a fifth dimension, beyond that which is known to man .It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call the Twilight Zone.”
( By the way, Ranger tucked tail and left the room).
Now I'm intrigued, I love a good interpretation, as you know Lor :) Apologies to Ranger, dogs are never partial to metaphysical conundrums in my experience.
Fascinating. That sounds like something I’m trying to tackle with these stories. In fact a vague something like that very idea breezed through my mind with the couples in the story. I’m going to check out Rod Sterling. Thanks Lor.
Yep. I think so. In this oh so short and extraordinary existence, what trivialities befuddle us when the prize of peace and love is there for the taking?
Thanks so much Patris. I'm thinking lots of things here, the myth of progress, the way technologies entomb us from the real world, the power of love to re-pool itself and bring us all closer. More really but I need a coffee now and the dog is getting restless :)
I’m shocked you were even thinking in the same direction.
I guessing your not familiar with the series The Twilight Zone ? The series was a combo of horror and sci-fi. He scripted most storylines . But he was also a teacher and a writer. Look up quotes of Rod Serling and you’ll see, well worth the search.
TO ALL: Apologies, I had inadvertently left Only Paid Comments on, (damn!) I think. I think "Everyone Can Comment" should be the default. Anyway, I've fixed it. Apologies to anyone who might have wanted to comment. :)
Rust of dying pines needles and dust upwells behind a middle aged couple and dog careening into a crashing; life-splitting —perhaps , a cord of wood for a fire that conflagration in the distance , yet a pebble skips across still waters ; leaves me wanting to see life and death — life rekindled with a couples love igniting with new energy, yet I feel like the flat pebble skipped on the surface and then it sinks to the bottom to blend with the sands of time. There’s more to life, yet I feel the last breath is taken away and I am left to be found somewhere in a forest wanting to be a Phoenix resurrected.
I saved your story to read before retiring to have as a stimulus to my own dream world. Perhaps if my subconscious pursues this story further I’ll let you know when the sun rises and filters light between the pine needles that are still green from nourishing rain.
Sometimes, when I write imagery like the skimming stone, so beautifully balanced between gravity and trajectory, momentarily in flight, always destined to sink, I’m playing with the idea of death and inevitability and the astounding beauty of the current moment. So, that you’ve seen this and responded so eloquently makes me feel my writing is seen. For that Richard, I’m truly grateful.
Let me know if these spirits reassemble in your dreams :)
I will soon enter the forest of shadows and with a celestial light return from my travels with a pebble I hope to find and retrieve it for you, describe the texture and color (s).
Happy Travels Richard :)
2:32am knitting needles drop from trees to roll balls of yarn to knit tales to tell and when finished the twines been woven into a scarf worn down the forest paths knots twisted together and dyed with autumn tones to color songs of woe with weeping snow drifts the wind blows.
Never found a pebble only brought you some words from shadows.
Thank you! I love your comments with their fantastic imagery!
I may have read this when you first posted it, Jonathan, and I know I read your follow-up on March 9 (The Shimmering Delicacy of Fragile Things). I remember because I cross-linked that post to my ‘stack but it went to the first version of my Substack which is now inactive. I just checked and it’s still there.
Your writing is just so compelling!
Thank you so much Paul. I'm so honored because I also love your poetry and the way you always write such noble and righteous themes. So it's a real pleasure to know that you're finding connection here. I remember you were one of the first people to comment on my earliest pieces (Scribble And Shout) where you said "I think The Crow will end up being, perhaps, your greatest love poem, Jonathan." And you were right Paul. I do so love writing here!
Always a pleasure Jonathan!
This sent my mind into eddying dimensions, overlapping yet distant in time and space. How am I only just discovering your writing now?! I must go back for more.
Thanks so much Kimberly! I’m so pleased you’ve found your way here, welcome, welcome :)
Maybe this one is worth a read if your still looking to check out some older stuff: https://open.substack.com/pub/jonathanfostersthecrow/p/a-murmuration-of-memories?r=17bi96&utm_medium=ios
Wonderful! I'll check it out this evening. Going over to save it now. ;)
Beautiful and haunting.
That's exactly what I thought :)
You master description in the interweave of narrative and magic. Quite the artform!
Thanks so much Síodhna, there's always room for a little magic :)
Beautiful and thought provoking....
Thanks for reading and commenting Joelle, I’m so glad you enjoyed this :)
This made me cry, unexpectedly! Not tears of sadness, but the touching on something that is so vast and so universal.
I have just discovered you here Jonathon and there is something about your writing that resonates with me in every breath, every word. Such beautiful tender, poignancy.
It's like you are saying the words that I have within me but they don't come out quite the same when I write them! Thank you. 😊🙏
That is such a beautiful and generous comment Jo, thank you. I'm so glad you happened upon The Crow and I'm grateful you're taking the time to read. Thank you.
Ah, but go read his quotes . For the purpose of the scripts , but also as a writer. You will be very surprised. I know I was.
👍🏽
Jeez, I have my own interpretation, but I’m not even going to begin to lay that out. Could be many pages. I will borrow a word from Troy, haunting. And mesmerizing .
“…twinkling of a billion tiny shards of light bouncing off their retinas in exploding moments of a new birthed Now.”
And, I will definitely borrow from the incredible Rod Serling;
“There is a fifth dimension, beyond that which is known to man .It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call the Twilight Zone.”
( By the way, Ranger tucked tail and left the room).
Now I'm intrigued, I love a good interpretation, as you know Lor :) Apologies to Ranger, dogs are never partial to metaphysical conundrums in my experience.
Thanks again for the heads up earlier 🙏🏽
Truthfully, I read it twice. Wrote out my thesis.
Tried to post it, and , dumped it.
Ok, just to satisfy a bit of your intrigue;
We each walk the same path of the circle of life just maybe life in the now, and the forever of eternity is one and the same.
(I like Rod Sterling’s version much better).
Fascinating. That sounds like something I’m trying to tackle with these stories. In fact a vague something like that very idea breezed through my mind with the couples in the story. I’m going to check out Rod Sterling. Thanks Lor.
Again beautiful. Peace and love is this not the prize?
Yep. I think so. In this oh so short and extraordinary existence, what trivialities befuddle us when the prize of peace and love is there for the taking?
I’ve dreamed such things, Jonathan, and am awed it could be told as perfectly as you have described this
Thanks so much Patris. I'm thinking lots of things here, the myth of progress, the way technologies entomb us from the real world, the power of love to re-pool itself and bring us all closer. More really but I need a coffee now and the dog is getting restless :)
I’m shocked you were even thinking in the same direction.
I guessing your not familiar with the series The Twilight Zone ? The series was a combo of horror and sci-fi. He scripted most storylines . But he was also a teacher and a writer. Look up quotes of Rod Serling and you’ll see, well worth the search.
Reruns on tv or better paper backs books in a used book store.