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*

parchment or vellum

before rice paper or papyrus

before ink made from oak gall,

walnut or lampblack

Long before the writing,

there were stories

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Stories that cautioned

commemorated, admonished

surprised and amused

Stories retold during

long dark winters

stories that celebrated seasons

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Today, despite paper, text and email,

despite AI and digital everything

stories hold forth at the kitchen table

at bedtime, at campfires or

when friends meet after a long absence

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It’s the stories that tell us who we are

The stories that remain after we are dust

Those that begin “Remember when…?”

Or “Once upon a time…”

Or “Did I ever tell you…?

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Spoken words that float away

Clouds of sounds dissolving like mist

But somehow they lodge in our hearts

To renew as a phoenix when heard again