Wordless Ghosts Speak to Me in the Language of Jasmine
Yes the jasmine is blooming and sometimes you just need to write the damn dream down.
Wordless Ghosts Speak to Me in the Language of Jasmine belongs to the following groups:
All Things Poetic, Artistic, Philosophical, Graphic Scratch, in-between and Short stories - Spherical ScriptingsMy house was built in 1912. It is surrounded by trees several hundred years old lining sidewalks of cracked concrete that sparkle in the sun. Weeds grow in the cracks alongside the occasional yellow poppy. Because beauty and ugliness together will always carve out large sections in our souls.
During warm weather, the smell of night blooming jasmine is heavy, like bass notes of music floating in the air. The sun seers messages into all living things, while the night gives them permission to come alive.
I exist in the between things, in the smell of jasmine seeping through porous wood and old window glass. I like to breathe in the things that I can see, and with eyes closed the things that I can’t.
It is on a hot day, walking through the latitude of my life that I feel furthest away from the memories of my youth. But when the sun sets, ghosts come out of hiding. They scratch at the door. They fester in my bones. They drift into my mouth and down my throat and into my gut while I sleep.
They wait for night. And for me.
My Dad visits then, in my dreams where imagination blossoms – be it in nightmare form or the full technicolor epic of a life not lived. I cry in dreams. I scream and shout. I read letters and decipher complex equations. I fly above planets unvisited, I kiss beautiful men as they stroke my brow. I am a universe unto myself.
But my Dad visits only when I sleep. He never speaks a word but stares at me with a hundred questions in his eyes. Ones I don’t answer. A few I simply can’t. Sometimes its just the silhouette of him retreating across a crowded street, standing faraway on a hill, or walking down a long hallway. Usually all it takes is a little lucid push in my mind and the landscape of the dream transforms into something altogether more…safe, like cliff diving in the Pacific Islands or getting into a cage with a hungry panther.
But not when he is there. Never then.
When I dream of Dad – the childhood Dad with his cowboy stance, lopsided grin and ocean eyes, or dying Dad with his cocktail glass, loaded handgun and soft-soled shoes, I wake up in such…pain. Physical pain in my lower back as if I’ve been carrying a large object up steep inclines. I am flush with the melancholy heaviness of the burden I’ve placed on myself. As if throughout the day I’m still in the dream, unable to shake it off, clinging to his wordless silhouette. This feeling provides me, for awhile at least, with the ability to see and smell and taste things normal people can’t, like a bloodhound searching for decay. It lasts for hours, sometimes the entire day.
On a day like today, when it is hot and humid and a steady wind blows in from the North, my mind becomes drenched in the history of all my hollow places. I step out onto the porch, the coolness of shade bringing a whisper of pleasure to my lips. Carrying a mug of hot coffee, flavored with hickory and maple, I’ll sit in my wicker rocking chair and seek forgiveness in the rising sun.
The sun will scorch whatever message into the flower it sees fit. When it finally sets, just as that last bit of dream slips away, I’ll once again smell the night blooming jasmine in the air. I’ll close my eyes, like I’ve done a hundred times before, and sit inside the silence.
I don’t know why this profusion of fragrance portends a midnight visit from my dead father. I only know that in the absence of sound or words or hope, I’ll gladly live inside the smell of burning flowers.
(c) 2009 mstrace
JenniferB
You have a way of writing that taps into all of the senses… Jasmine is my favourite fragrance. Beautiful writing. :)
mstrace replied
oh Jen, I can’t thank you enough. And I got lucky with the Jasmine then, didn’t I? hehe
PJ Ryan
I’ve just sighed the biggest sigh.
I want to meet you one day.
I hope we meet.
There’s a lot in you that reminds me of myself … not least of all our fathers and their passing. My dad was a cowboy and i know that stance you write about. I remember once (and only once) did i dream of him in the year after his passing and he didn’t say a word to me. In fact, he looked at me and walked away, on board a bus. I wanted him to come with me but he didn’t.
He visits me now whilst i’m awake, often. He speaks to me in different ways.
This piece is beautifully descriptive and spiritual. Burn the flowers and let the aroma fill the air like oil.
Big hugs sista
x
mstrace replied
We will, we will!! Meet one day that is. So that we can speak to each other in the language of departed Dads.
hugs right back at ya, BIG hugs
Lisa Jewell
One of the most beautiful pieces of writing I’ve read….I visualised everything from the house, the cracks and the fragrant scent tickled beyond my sense of smell.
I felt immense infinity with you, and wow our individual dream world. Where I too am kissed and held….
Sigh…..melancholy swept over me, when reading of your dream visits with your Father….how absolutely lovely…
There are times when words are not required…
XXXX
mstrace replied
my darling Lisa, you just gave me the best compliment ever, and my tummy was warm all day from the feeling.
thank you…thank you…and, thank you.
Lisa Jewell
That should have been affinity :))
Astoreth
The smell of Jasmine always makes me stand still and close my eyes. This is such a beautiful writing. xx
mstrace replied
thank you so much Astoreth!
Erika .
WOW! you have left me speechless, this is one of those rare pieces you don’t run into everyday. Your writing is so poignant and vivid. I can smell the jasmine, I felt the burden you woke up with.
“I read letters and decipher complex equations. I fly above planets unvisited…I am a universe unto myself.” I can relate to this so much.
This is delicate and descriptive writing. I can’t really explain how beautiful this piece is. All I can say is that I love it and it will go into my favorites. :)
mstrace replied
erika, I am humbled (truly) by that amazing comment. I can’t thank you enough for reading this piece and for taking the time to write such a beautiful compliment.
Ena Lü
it’s where they come to love us and speak without words,
today is the 3 month anniversary of my mother’s passing
am very grateful that she visits me often
she was, is the great love of my life
the one that would do anything for me….....
last night I went out, urged by a prompting from the night, the moon
the stillness to pick her some roses and locked myself out of the house!
I could hear her laughing!
My daughter Alexia who passed 9 years ago, her middle name was Yasmin
because of the flower because of the scent that brings us closer now
I make a blessing for you
and you dad
love e
mstrace replied
oooooh, Ena luv – thank you for that blessing!
ShadowDancer
mstrace, i had to remind myself to breathe as i read through this delicate piece. .. this is filled with a whole universe of emotions, my soul is heavy as i carry them with me through the night… beautiful writing, so beautiful.
mstrace replied
shadow, such a great reaction! what more could a writer hope for, but to have their readers so caught up. boy do I thank you for that!
Outdoors2
I love when you write about your Dad, He brings “you” ...;-)
in-between group
mstrace replied
hello Mr. Lion…thank you for saying that.
I joined the in-between group, looks pretty cool
butchart
your words find places in me that i never thought would be found…... you have a gift that goes far beyond the weaving of words… into an empathatic realm…........ bless you…......b
mstrace replied
butchart, you are too kind. I mean that. your soul is rare and full of light. so I bless you right back!
Sticky Flower
you really are something special,you know that right?These words have soaked through my skin and into the part of me that needs to turns words into pictures..I have favourite writers on here..and it’s because only their words touch the places where I really feel things.You do it every time,beautiful you xo
mstrace replied
well there sticky luv, you know that no matter where you go, if you’re still on RB – I will always manage to find you. because you are something special and rare and I absolutely fracking LUV your perspective.
My toes curled with giddy when I read your comment. thank you gorgeous!
JTomblinson
(deep sigh)
My darlin’ girl… do you really believe he only visits you when you sleep? or is it just that you only acknowledge him then?
I don’t believe he could be such an integral part of your life now, today, last night, if he wasn’t still with you. He IS the flowers and the lemons on the tree in your backyard. He’s the smell of your coffee in the morning and the sounds you hear in the street while you work. He’s the reason your pets run around the house at random and you know who’s on the phone before it rings.
He’s always with you. I just wish you could take some comfort in that.
[hug]
mstrace replied
Jules, jules, jules…what can I say? Yes, he’s with me more then you know. Aw hell, more then I know!
bellmusker
There are so many exquisite lines and trails of beauty in this piece that I simply don’t know which part of it to comment on first. Your writing is just magical Trace; everyone who reads it is drawn into your world, whether it be rich with seduction or resonant with grief and longing. This is just…..beautiful. And I will smell that jasmine firsthand in about eight weeks. See you soon, sweetheart. x
mstrace replied
Aww bell, now you’ve just gone and made my night. I am indeed a prolific dreamer, in the literal sense. I’m hoping the jasmine will still be going crazy when you get here. If not, I’ve plenty of lavender planted to tickle your senses. Frack bell, June just can’t get here quick enough!
I went shopping today and bought the most dead sexy pair of purple satin stilettos…ya know, in anticipation and everythin’
AFogArty
As a dad we can only hope and pray that we can have positive impact on our children’s lives. It is with such warmth of memories that your dad can rest with the knowledge of your love.
Well written I stayed lost in your words for a timeless eternity.
mstrace replied
afogarty…wow, that is the simply the loveliest compliment ever. I can’t thank you enough for reading and enjoying it!
Geoff Coleman...
Reading through the comments your genius inspires is almost as rare a gift as your writing itself – almost. You don’t just exist between things – in that quantum space between the yearning of the heart and the love that walks away your words weave all that is understood, and never accepted. Thank you for these moments of grace Trace – moved beyond words.
mstrace replied
geoff, you absolutely slayed me (in the best way) with this comment. it had me smiling ear to ear, like a giddy schoolgirl!! and then you posted that lovely journal link and I don’t know WHAT to say. I am humbled and honored that a talented genius such as yourself enjoys my writing so much. It makes the whole process of writing entirely worth it. Thank you, thank you kind sir!!
ltruskett
such beautiful writing and such a heart-renching subject matter. My poor dad died a horrific death from lung cancer…........ he comes to me in my dreams as a younger man….......... handsome and strong…...... the way I want to see him no doubt…............ Your writing is so pretty and so emotive….............
mstrace replied
ltruskett – I am SOOO sorry to hear about your Dad, I hope it wasn’t too recent. I’m glad he comes to you in your dreams! Anyway, I apologize for the delay but I just wanted to say a big thank you for taking the time to read this very personal piece.
Matt Penfold
What a beautifully written and moving piece, this really does touch and stir all the senses and emotions. You had me close to tears and thinking of my own dad. Thank you.
mstrace replied
thank you Matt, what more could a writer ask for? i appreciate you reading and commenting more then I could ever express!
Kathie Nichols
I found myself holding my breath as I read. I hold back the tears as I write this, your words trigger memories for me, I miss my Dad too. Where’s the tissues…....no matter, just use my shirt! lol!
I could smell the Jasmine, how I love the perfume, scenes from the past go through my mind as I read. Beautiful writing…..thankyou so much for sharing! xxx
mstrace replied
Kathie – I apologize for the delay in responding. I wanted to thank you immensely for taking the time to read and post such a beautiful comment. Missing our Dads (big sigh) is kinda awful, isn’t it?
big hugs
Martin Muir
such a wonderful piece of writing,i cant say ive ever read anything on the bubble and felt like i was reading a chapter from a book,i relate to it geoff even though i have never known my farther but it reaches out in so many other ways and your discriptions of things is so real you feel like you can smell and touch those objects. so well written, awesome….....................Martin
mstrace replied
Martin, I want to first apologize for the delay in responding. And thank you from the bottom of my heart for this truly amazing comment. You made day!!
Katrina De'Vries
Wonderful. Simply wonderful.
mstrace replied
oh katrina, thank you so much!
Jim Hall
Trapped between melancholy and manic depression. Wow. Entertaining piece. I liked it. JH
mstrace replied
Thank you so much Jim!
aglaia b
how lucky are you, to be gifted like this
mighty fine writing mstrace! :-) xox ❤
mstrace replied
aglaia, you are no less gifted than I am dear one, but I thank you for that beautiful compliment nonetheless!
artyfifi
Wow. That is the most beautiful written work I have read in a long time. Wonderful.
mstrace replied
arty…a wow right back at you, thank you SO much for taking the time to read and for posting that beautiful compliment…
gbabes96
mstrace you insire me as i am inspired by this great peice of writting and hope to real lots more your so lucky to be talented like this :) x
mstrace replied
wow, that is a huge compliment gbabes…thank you SO much!
gbabes96
thats ment to be read** x
Matthew Dalton
Heat and jasmine: your writing, tactile and aromatic, created such a strong image in my mind. When you leave this world and drift into sleep, I float away too and see what you’re describing even though it’s not of this world.
¬_like bass notes of music floating in the air._
Wonderful.
mstrace replied
matthew… that comment is so sincerely appreciated, that I – for once, have no words! except of course, thank you thank you