Where is this place? This here "across the crick' ". A place where I kin dance, and laff"...and talk... loud and fast like the old folks did...holler if I take a mind to! Talk...talk...talk...without bothering nobody! I kin throw back my head, put my hands on my hips and holler...holler out all the stuff I been a keepin' bottled up inside a me! If that's what I take a mind to do...
Why, I wouldnt have to worry 'bout nuthin'...not life or love or little miss "I wouldn't do that if I wuz you"...aint no two faced people on that side a the crick'. Ever body lookin' out for everybody.
Yes sirree...I'd like to find that place again where folks do things a lot differin' they do here on this side of the crick"...where Im stuck!
Here on this side , ya put shoes on feet that jus' want freedom...hats on head when ya dont need'em. You eat when ya aint hungry and ya marry who ya dont love.
Over there across the crick you run bareoot through clear clean water, and watch it trickle through the dust in streaks till it gits' to ya toes. You feel the warm sun when ya lay ya face rite down against them big old flat rocks. The ones that rise up friendly in middle of the crick'. Ya let the warm sun soak into ya bones...ya close ya eyes and smell summer. No certain smell...just all the smells that make summer be summer.
There "across the crick"...old folks are trying to out talk each other. Youngin are trying to listen while they chase lit'nen bugs... and day dreams...Sometimes standin real still, just letin' things be. They let the sounds melt through their bones till their hearts are about to bust from all the goodness around 'em. ..."there across the crick'"...cause over there even the youngins' know...that this is as good as it gets!
There across the crick' is how things used to be...the good old days folk call'em.. It is the place we left behind and spend all our lives trying to get back to...running the wrong way the whole time.
It's a feeling deep inside us yearning for the shelter and protection of unconditional love and total acceptance. It is an empty feeling that we never seem to be able to fill, a sweet sadness forever a part of our memories...a place we choose to remember...whether it existed or not.
Shirley Cochran-Walls
Jolly Librarian Technician
1 day ago