Robert Burns wrote "The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft aglee (often go astray). As I entered one of the darkest periods of my life, I kept rehashing how my plans had always crashed and burned and fell into quite a victim mode that threatened not only my financial well being, but my health as well. During a dark morning on a secluded part of my paper route around Siltcoos Lake as I listened to the natural world coming to life and greeting the sunrise, I remembered the words on Tom's hat and the following poem was the result.
Hills of Home ©
In the summers of her
youthful past,
She walked barefoot through
the long bladed grass
That grew along the honey-suckled hills of
Her Old Kentucky Home.
And the perfumed air that
filled her lungs
Brought a spark of life into
her infant soul
Nourished by the wild
berries she watched ripen and grow
Into cobblers and homemade
ice cream
For summers’ eves with
lightening bugs aglow.
But the robin in spring and
red bird in winter,
Chirped a call heard deep
within her,
To trade her Sunday shoes that
walked the straight and narrow path
For sparkling, glass
slippers that yearned to roam
In search of love and
adventure far from her Old Kentucky Home.
And romance blossomed among
the garden paths of Versailles
And the Left Bank of Paris.
But the slippers faded into
shimmering moonlight on the Seine,
So she found garden clogs to
work the terrain
To build love and
contentment with a home of her own
Amid the honey-suckled vines
of her Old Kentucky Home.
But the robin in spring and
red bird in winter
Chirped a call heard deep
within her,
To follow her love to
Eldorado and the Seven
Cities of Gold
Promised in stories and
myths of old.
When that love withered and
died in the desert heat,
She donned hiking boots to
retreat
With her new love to the
lush, green woodlands aside ocean dunes
Amid quiet streams filled with salmon and the
call of the loon.
Left alone in Eden by death’s early
knell,
She felt her paradise
turning to hell.
But she found solace for her
soul biking the salty sea shore
And donned dancing shoes for
music and loved once more.
But the strong winds in
summer and heavy rains in winter,
Drowned love once more and
sent her
Back to the rooted vines
that climbed high on the hills
Of her Old Kentucky Home.
Now, in the autumn of her
years she roams barefoot once more,
To the song of the robin in
spring and red bird in winter
That chirp the secret of
unconditional love rooted deep within her
And spreading wide across
the hills of her Old Kentucky Home.After writing the poem, I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to sell my house and move back to Kentucky. The housing market was booming and I stood to make quite a profit but for me, the universe was not ready for the move. I still had some karma - both good and bad - to complete so I took the house off the market, refinanced once again so I could do the final work that needed to be done in order to sell and write a book. The result was "The Peacemaker." Then the housing bubble burst and when I was ready to sell again I was completely under water with my mortgage. I continued to struggle to keep the house by free lance writing to add to my retirement income which was affected by the whistle blowing activity.
After completion of a ghost writing project and a trip to Hawaii with family in 2012, I made the difficult decision to free myself of the house so that I could move back to the "Hills of Home." While I was waiting for that to happen, I decided to write for myself again. Although free lance writing had paid the bills for me, I had more to create myself - the result was "A Squeaky Wheel Gets Oiled - The Musical" and a short story called "The Season." It is now time for me to move and I know where that will be.
Although I will probably be in Florence through the summer because of my play, I will be spending a lot of time investigating the purchase of a small plot of land somewhere in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains so that I can put a small log cabin with a loft on it where I can retreat to continue to write and explore the hills of home when I am not traveling. I have learned to set my thoughts and visions around what "feels right" along my journey and follow my heart. As I look back on my journey, I know that everything I experienced along the way was just a building block to where I am today. I no longer feel a victim to the strong winds and currents that come my way because I have learned to "go with the flow" listen to the "call of the robin in spring and red bird in winter" and embrace them as part of what has been the rich experience of my life. As the man was heard saying while falling from a skyscraper "so far so good."
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