Thirsty

I placed the little paper cup

Beneath the spout and chunks of frozen water tumbled out

Then moved my cup next door and water poured from the adjacent tap

I slurped the cool mixture

The ice bobbing against my lips

And swallowed the slick liquid

Marveling at how easily I accessed what my body needed

My mind jumped to Saturday

We lost the trail in the forest

After coming down the mountain

We were out of water

But I needed water more than I remember ever needing it before

It didn’t seem to matter that I’d eaten plenty

All that mattered was that food isn’t water

I trudged along behind my friend, getting more behind with every halting, uncoordinated step

My legs were concrete blocks

My arms were having trouble utilizing poles that previously were so helpful

We fumbled through the felled trees which made a random, crisscross pattern my fatigued, foggy mind could not decipher

I gingerly stepped here and there hoping rotting logs would hold my weight

Desiccated, prickly branches clawed at my bare legs leaving their grasp behind in bloody, jagged fingerprints

I wondered what it might be like to fall face first, just like those trees, into the tangled mash

I’m sure it would be warm and suck me in

And did my hiking partner have cell service

Could he summon help in this wooded, desolate place

When he looked behind to find his, now, feeble friend delirious and languishing

On the forest floor

Eyes sunken, parched tongue lolling from my mouth, drool absent

I awoke from my most pleasant dream of lying down to his most welcome words, “I’ve found the trail!”

A “Hallelujah” sputtered up and with it came a surge of energy

Once on the trail, I stopped to turn the empty water bladder out above my head and lamely tried to catch the last few drips

They missed my mouth and trickled giggling down my neck instead

Suffice to say I did survive my trial by way of want for water

Made it to the car to share a coke

And nothing’s ever tasted better

Edited in Prisma app with Dallas
Edited in Prisma app with Dallas

The feature pic entitled “Quenched” was created by me by combining photos from Pixabay, edited using Pixlr.  The footer pic is from Pixabay, edited using Prisma. Posts come out when I feel like it. 😀 Scroll down to the bottom of the page to follow me or sign up to receive my posts via email. Listen to many of my post on Spotify. Follow me on Instagram. Take a peek at my Redbubble store Pollyeloquent.redbubble.com. See samples of my products below each post. Thank you for giving me some of your precious time!

God will not Forget You

For my mother, Sharon Mayforth, in honour of Alzheimer’s Awareness Month.

https://open.spotify.com/episode/0Tx1K5UO2JHwNiQsSRyFXP?si=wZ7znkA0RMKon808fW4DZQ

You may continually misplace your keys

Misfile your favourite recipe Continue reading “God will not Forget You”

News Flash: You are NOT Enough

I don’t remember a lot of lack growing up. My parents worked hard to provide for us. We weren’t wealthy, but we had what we needed with some extras, with the exception of socks. I remember having a lack of socks. I regularly, and with no small amount of chagrin, annoyedimg_0320 my sister, stealing her socks, because my sock drawer always seemed to be bare. I don’t remember asking my mother for socks. I’m sure she’d have coughed up the socks, if I’d have expressed my need to her. To this day, I can’t get enough socks and if I had a wad of cash, I’d be spending it on gobs of unique socks. Continue reading “News Flash: You are NOT Enough”

A Hand Up

Jesus healed so many when he was on this earth, but there is one story that stands out to me after celebrating Easter. It’s the story of the raising of Jairus’s daughter found in Mark 5:21-43. For those of you who don’t know the story, Jesus was approached in a large crowd by Jairus, a synagogue leader, an important man in the community. This man was so desperate, he threw himself at Jesus’s feet even in this packed setting. The crowd must have parted for such a display. He explained his daughter was gravely ill and begged Jesus to come and heal her, something Jesus was now famous for. Jesus was willing, but the crowd made his leaving slow going. I imagine Him wading through a sea of grabby hands. Everyone wanted a piece of His power. According to the text, He healed a woman in transit, someone with so much faith that she tugged on his cloak and the power left Him, freeing her from 12 years of pain and suffering. Not one to heal and run, Jesus addressed her, but even this brief encounter was too long for Jairus and his daughter. As Jesus finished up with her, others arrived with the sad news that Jairus’s daughter had succumbed to her illness. They urged Jairus not to “bother” the teacher anymore. Jesus, overhearing the conversation, assured Jairus it was no bother and told him not to be afraid, which I find curious. I, of course, looked up the synonyms for the word “afraid”, because I associate this word with being frightened and it didn’t seem to fit this situation. Discouraged, disheartened, disturbed, anxious, upset, were all words one could use in its place. “Don’t be rattled,” Jesus said (my paraphrase). “I’ve got this. I’ve got you.”img_4194

Continue reading “A Hand Up”

A White Christmas?

I’m dreaming of a dry Christmas

Just like the ones I’ve rarely known

Where the trees are bare

And children stare

And cry because there isn’t any snow

I’m dreaming of a dry Christmas

With every trip I take outside

May your days feel more like July

And may all your Christmases be dry

Snow. I’m not a fan. Sure, it’s very pretty at times, even dreamy, when it’s wafting down slowly in flakes the size of feathers, forming a crystalline blanket of softness on surfaces. It shushes things. Traffic lessens, as a slippery sheen is laid down. People stay inside. They cocoon, wrapping themselves in wooly sweaters and self-administering hot liquids. They’re content to look at the snow like one looks at snowfall-16319_1920fish in a fish tank. It’s rather mesmerizing to watch the world fade to white and familiar forms, like vehicles, obscure to fluffy mounds. Unfortunately, snow’s beauty is fleeting. Try travelling in the open country in a blizzard where you can’t see 2 feet in front of your vehicle and, I guarantee, you won’t be so enamored with it. For a day, fresh and pure, it’s enchanting, but, as the winter drags on, driven snow clumped with salt, sand, and gravel is ugly, especially when the sticky stuff sticks around for months. Soon enough, most people can hardly stand the sight of it. Continue reading “A White Christmas?”