Buried Beneath It All | 2.20.21
Some of you may know my friend, the Welsh wonder, master poet, Ash Raymond James. He and I are brothers from other mothers, we knew it from the start, and we’ve been lucky enough to develop a friendship despite oceans between us. If you’re not yet following his Substack, I highly encourage you to do so, the link is above on his name. At any rate, when he issues me a writing challenge, whether I like it or not, I have to rise to the occasion. He did so recently, defying me to write a haiku using only 3 words, no more, no less. I took the challenge, but instead of just phoning it in, I wanted to try my very hardest to write one that actually meant something to me, not just the traditional “refrigerator” type joke haiku that could have happened.
What I came up with, in a sense, was inspired by him. By all of you, in truth. I think beneath the surface of all of us, is this unconventionality, this unique humming spirit that is unlike that of anyone else, anywhere else. I believe it’s layered, like geologic principle, multiple layers on multiple layers, sediments of all we’ve been, seen, hoped, dreamed, endured, loved. I believe it’s inside all of us, and sometimes we have to go digging to find it. Sometimes we have to erode away to find who we’re supposed to be, sometimes we have to add more on top of what we were to become even stronger. We’re rocks and stones, us, all hiding our treasures below the surface. We’re filled with this quirky greatness, if only others bother to excavate.
I hope I did this one justice, it was a challenge unlike many others when it comes to haiku. Again, if you’re not following the man, I encourage you to do so. Button is here:
Subterranean
unconventionality.
Geological.
Haiku on Life by Tyler Knott Gregson
Song of the Day
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I love this, it’s short and powerful. Ash’s substack is awesome, I highly encourage everyone to subscribe and follow. It’s a mish mash of greatness, just like Ash and his Mind Noise is phenomenal 🌪🤩😉.
I’m still stuck in the sentiment of sediment back here. They remind me of my inability to adequately articulate the link between the new growth forest covering the trenches and shell holes at Verdon, mirrored by the ancient canopy of Aokigahara. If we are rocks and minerals, so too we must be trees.