Oasis Is Not A Band

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Oasis.”

So here I am and decided that maybe assignments would help me start writing again… maybe not.

Today January 7 year of some people’s Lord 2015 is the start of me, firing away again on a keyboard after so many years of writer’s block. You can say after I got through my teenage angst , kept everything stashed away in a conspicuous notebook to be forgotten by time and even by me.

Oasis. Oasis. Every time I hear of this word it reminds me of a popular band with good songs that I never really bothered to stalk let alone listened to. It was always along the lines of listening to the radio and randomly singing along to a song that is already embedded in the deep annals of my memory that I never really cared to know what the title is until someone would come up to me and say – oh Backstreet Boys, or Oh! That’s Oasis right – beats me.

Maybe this word does take me back to a journey of a boy in Paolo Coehlo’s “The Alchemist”. A Vast expanse of sand thousands upon thousands of steps of arid sand. Only camels and caravans could survive but within it is a patch of greenery and drinking water that can save anyone from death.

Maybe each of us has our own oasis that saves us each time. I don’t even think it has to be a place. It doesn’t even have to be that band’s song. It just can be from the tiniest reason of a wind blowing on your face on a hot summer day or a babies smile. There is always that miracle everyday that makes us take a refuge at our own oasis that we can make it through the day without any struggle and just BE.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s