There is a song I've been hearing on Bluegrass Junction called "Top of the Ridge" by Blue Highway. I have been thinking for a week now about it, and trying to figure out why I cannot get it out of my mind as the song I have to write about for this prompt.
Today answered the question. Synchronicity, of course.
Yesterday with my afternoon Reading students, we looked at a poem called "In My Dreams" by Francisco X. Alarcon. The poem is about the dream of animals and humans living together as one family. We talked about various parts of the poem, and then I gave brainstorming questions to my students to help them write their own "In My Dreams" poem. Very few of them could do this, seeming completely stymied and stalled, and I knew that I was going to have to approach this a new way. And it had to begin with me writing my own "In My Dreams" poem.
During my short meditation this morning, it connected together in my mind -- a place I can go in my dreams is the top of the ridge. It is about a day I have never forgotten in the summer of 1995 in North Carolina. A day that sticks in my memory for more reasons than I record here. But this was the crux of it.
See the photo above of me at the top of the ridge, in front of a tobacco field? I'm wearing a sunflower shirt that has the Emerson quote: Why on earth if not to grow? This was definitely my living motto throughout the 1990's. It enters into all I believe about life then and now. It connects to what happened that day in 1995.
Here is the poem I have written about my dream of being on the top of the ridge and all it can do for me. You will probably recognize common themes, as it seems to be my purpose in writing these days. I am grateful for this opportunity to share this story, as I've wanted for a long time to write about it in a way that honored the experience. I tried to drop in a few words from the "Top of the Ridge" song, and there is a similar theme. And, of course, I've included a video of the song. I hope you find it as beautiful as I do.
In My Dreams (Free Flowers)
Mid-summer Ashe County.
The journey feeling a bit rough
On the gravel road we take
To the top of the ridge.
On the way, twists and turns, up
and down,
Lilting voice of Alison Krauss
filling the car.
Christmas trees farms covering the
hills.
Orange and yellow tiger lilies
bordering the road.
Tobacco fields just getting
started.
July sun, some clouds overhead.
Jagged lines of Blue Ridge in the
distance.
Unusual and magical, in the middle
of nowhere,
Two children stand by the road,
angelic messengers;
“Free Flowers” their handmade sign
says.
In my dreams I can go to the top of
that ridge
And receive a flower any time I
want.
Soft feathery petals, fragrant and
free.
In my mind these kind and generous
children
Are ever-present, standing in their
yard,
Even as they are long gone.
On the top of the ridge I stand on
sacred ground,
Watch the sun rise and set, see the
long view.
No running now – only connecting to
a place
With no worry or pain or anxiety.
In the moment I can remember this:
Loving actions take no special
effort.
Cost nothing. Always available.
Peace and love form a bridge
To the place I need to be.
I can recall this, as I choose,
When I go to the top of the ridge.
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