Grandmother Stories

Life lived like a story or
words in books
black smudges
on a page
flat and quiet
Spoken, they come alive
In community
In context
Love, shared history
Caring to teach
and share.

To know the storyteller
Watch her
The words become a
Melody heard by the heart.
A place for the soul
to ponder.
Meaning richly woven
into the fabric
of our lives.

I feel the places
my grandmother
took me
I would recognize them
even without the light
Helping hands become
the smell of her food
the touch of her skin
the sweetness of her breath.
Watching, learning.

Metaphors created
Through sights, sounds
smells, touches.
Words on a page
Lines and circles, black and white.
Nothing like the stories they tell.

When I remember,
They come alive.

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