{"id":32722,"date":"2017-08-05T12:03:29","date_gmt":"2017-08-05T16:03:29","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=32722"},"modified":"2017-08-05T12:03:29","modified_gmt":"2017-08-05T16:03:29","slug":"wisdom-found-on-the-beach-based-on-picture-3-of-prompt-3","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2017\/08\/wisdom-found-on-the-beach-based-on-picture-3-of-prompt-3\/","title":{"rendered":"Wisdom Found On the Beach   (Based on Picture #3 of Prompt #3)"},"content":{"rendered":"<pre>Hair flowing loosely with flowers falling with each step, \r\nher tambourine flicking sparks with each rattle,\r\nwrapped shirt tails revealing she now has a bejewelled belly button\r\nflicking light matching the mirrors in her blousing loose cotton maxi skirt,\r\nJanis Joplin has just arrived on this beach.\r\n\r\nDrinking in the salt air and cool mist, she is swaying to waves\r\ncrashing in and out, each time creating ribbons of blues, silvers, purples, \r\nfleeting sunset-orange, white froth, and back to blues all the deeper and fuller.\r\nDeep from her throat her heart surges in breaking songs matching each falling crest.\r\n\r\nDumbfounded, I stare. I know who she is, yes, but I know no more than three of her songs:\r\nFreedom found when she sings about Bobby McGee,\r\na wail when giving a piece of her heart,\r\nthen that Mercedes Benz song that caused so much turmoil years after she died.\r\nI knew them only from the AM radio station I listened to growing up\r\ncrackling with static, accentuating her gritty, gutsy voice.\r\n\r\nDoes she realize it's me?  \r\n\"Jan, yes you\" bemused, I look to see if she's speaking to anyone else, but now \r\nshe's right before me.\r\n\"Let me tell you, I've been journeying over this earth over forty years now, \r\nclose to fifty.\r\nWe were supposed to meet, but you were only three when I died. \r\nI was supposed to come and meet you when you cried in heartache-\r\nI've been there.\r\nI would have understood about the risks and adventure.\r\nWhen everyone else was worried, I was going to be the one to \r\nwhisper encouragement. . . why not?\r\nSo, my death was not the plan - but hey, \r\nlife's improvasition with planning for a back-up band.\r\nIt's the improvisation that gives you voice. . . \"\r\n\r\nShe caught another deep breath of seaside air as cooling summer waters\r\ntickled over her toes, and she gasped a loud, long laugh.\r\n\"Are you expecting a stereotype? The fast life? If only I'd lived long enough, \r\nI'd be drinking the teas - chai, matcha, chamomile - teaching yoga and music therapy, \r\nand falling in love every damn chance I'd get.\"  \r\n\r\nShe smiles at me, clearly looking right at me. \r\n\"Ah, yes, I was supposed to be in the fights for equal rights, and the marches -- \r\noh! those fabulous marches.\r\nI just took it all too seriously but not seriously enough.\r\nWhy did I listen to the meanness? \r\nWhy did I doubt myself? It wasn't about me in the small me.\r\nIt was about me being part of something bigger -- the ME I was supposed to be.\"\r\n\r\nShe's stopped the swaying, and she has grown fuller and brighter.\r\n\r\n\"Don't be afraid. You've got today, tomorrow, and at least a few days more.\r\nBe bold. Be brave. Be beautiful. Have fun. \r\nYou don't know what's coming, but remember about the improvisation.\r\nThe electricity doesn't come from the guitar. It comes from you. \r\nMake your life a song. . . .\"\r\n\r\nShe disappeared, but the sparkles remained.\r\nThe starred sky dipped down to the beach where I stood, \r\nthe heavens and earth somehow connecting as the waves crashed in.<\/pre>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Hair flowing loosely with flowers falling with each step, her tambourine flicking sparks with each rattle, wrapped shirt tails revealing she now has a bejewelled belly button flicking light matching the mirrors in her blousing loose cotton maxi skirt, Janis Joplin has just arrived on&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1019,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-32722","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellaneous"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/32722","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1019"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=32722"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/32722\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":33361,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/32722\/revisions\/33361"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=32722"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=32722"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=32722"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}