To be able to remember.
To have all my faculites --still.
To be able to give
And recieve.
For living things that delight
and amaze.
For conditions that set the sky ablaze.
For people that help me see
The variety in humanity.
For all these things, and creations
should be in my reality
God alone deserves the praise
For all that makes my days
A kaliedoscope of thoughts and feelings
Of changes, and chances to meet them.
God, unknowable but All-Knowing
Holder of all Names, but Unnamed
Provider beyond all capacity of man
To begin to understand
Leaves us to ourselves until we turn to Him
Yet all our needs for living are given.
Gratitude is a feeble word and doesn't really meet
The whole of His giving.
Life abundent for each and all
With everything to sustain it
Inward and outward
No matter how inept we my perform
He does not reclaim it.
Patiently He waits, He gives, infinitely
We chafe and blame speak profanely
He loves. He guides. He comforts with spirit.
We feel His love, His majesty, but cannot yet
Get near it.
Praise and gratitude...qualities I need.
Please God help me achieve them
With diligence and speed.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Thanksgiving
Giving thanks is a daily requirement for spiritual health. I see on this medium--more mention of black Friday, then the day that comes before. A clear symptom pointing to the globally rampant disease of materialism. The more we feed the creature that keeps crying, "Me,Mine,More", the stronger it gets it shoves the other sibling housed in the same heart-- "Other,ForYou,Enough" out of the nest.
Some nations have a handle on the balance of materialism and other aspects are missing. Some nations not accustomed to having a capitalistic bent, have lost all perspective and it was ruinous to their existence.
Persons, families, and on out in ever increasing ripples will do well to remember that giving thanks is a daily, spiriutal need, keeping their own greed in check and perfecting their understanding of humility. May God help me in living up to my words.
Some nations have a handle on the balance of materialism and other aspects are missing. Some nations not accustomed to having a capitalistic bent, have lost all perspective and it was ruinous to their existence.
Persons, families, and on out in ever increasing ripples will do well to remember that giving thanks is a daily, spiriutal need, keeping their own greed in check and perfecting their understanding of humility. May God help me in living up to my words.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Another Argument Against Aggression
The ripple effect of perpetrating aggression or violence on someone in opposition is endless.
Capturing the hearts and minds of the 'masses' that we are attempting to 'liberate' has never, will never and can never be accomplished through any form of violence. Whether we (as f0reigners) are attempting to defend them in word or deed, or not.
If we send troops armed with skills to firm up infrastructure, upgrade medical and technical progress, agricultural successes, and educational professionals by the boatload, we may succeed.
But even those brave souls should be prepared to give their lives. If only to prove the sincerety of our commitment to a nonviolent partnership for progress.
Some say both are necessary, because the non-military personnel must be protected. I say, no go without arms and let the people's own sense of injustice rise up against those who oppose peaceful efforts.
The key is that there can be no covert activities coinciding with non-violent programs.
Capturing the hearts and minds of the 'masses' that we are attempting to 'liberate' has never, will never and can never be accomplished through any form of violence. Whether we (as f0reigners) are attempting to defend them in word or deed, or not.
If we send troops armed with skills to firm up infrastructure, upgrade medical and technical progress, agricultural successes, and educational professionals by the boatload, we may succeed.
But even those brave souls should be prepared to give their lives. If only to prove the sincerety of our commitment to a nonviolent partnership for progress.
Some say both are necessary, because the non-military personnel must be protected. I say, no go without arms and let the people's own sense of injustice rise up against those who oppose peaceful efforts.
The key is that there can be no covert activities coinciding with non-violent programs.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
This is the second week of my on-line writing class.
My teacher likes my writing so much he is embarasssing me.!! The assignments have been easy and fun though.
I have to start looking for a place to get published besides self-publishing. I also need to accumulate a good size stock of prose that I can hawk to magazines or ????
Most of the prose I have to offer is either related to a very small niche --or so overdone that I wouldn't have a ghost of a chance to get in print.
I have to start looking for a place to get published besides self-publishing. I also need to accumulate a good size stock of prose that I can hawk to magazines or ????
Most of the prose I have to offer is either related to a very small niche --or so overdone that I wouldn't have a ghost of a chance to get in print.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Dream Scene
Jasmine and Honeysuckle mingled in the spring night air. A woman wrapped in silk fabric that breathed the fragrances and sifted the coolness of the breeze onto the fine hairs of her skin, moved through the night with silence and grace.
Hues of blue from the moonlight coated everything but the lights from the candles and oil lamps glowing orange from windows and crevices.
She made no sound, even from her sandals as she glided past pools with night lilies blooming in open-petalled embrace of the blue moonlight. The street became a path into the trees and all orange lights were now only spots in the distance. Had anyone seen her they would have found their breath taken by her beauty. Had they heard her speak they would have been astonished at her eloquence and wisdom. More so, that her voice conveyed a strength, depth, and confidence not ordinarily present in a woman's voice. It was captivating, magnetic.
Though completely covered, her hair was past her waist and every inch curly by nature and ebony in color.
Her spiritual family called her Solace of the Eyes. Some said those eyes had a mask made of light. Those who had seen this light had seen her fully expose her face, an act that was to be the harbinger of women's freedom and rise from oppression world wide for coming millenia.
Clutching a small wooden box containing a roll of parchment, she slipped through the trees and into the darkness as a sprite. The path was one which she had worn and was easily followed even in the dark for she dared not bring a lamp.
The intoxicating breath of the flowers, the lilies and the moonlight stirred her mind and moved her heart to spill forth poetry in her head as she sped along the path to her destination. Poetry to be read and understood in the language it was originally written. Poetry that would remain hidden until such time as the human heart could withstand its beauty and power. Poetry that could “transcend the murmur of syllables and sounds and rise above words and letters”… poetry borne of love beyond the understanding and grasp of the mind of common man ….until…. five centuries past the telling.
But it was not poetry in the scrolls concealed in the intricately handcarved, sandalwood box. It was not letters conceived in romantic euphoria whose secrets could not be exposed.
If the pen is mightier than the sword, and if words and thoughts are more powerful than bombs and cannons, she carried that which was more powerful than the strongest earthquake, tornado, monsoon, hurricane, tsu nami, flood, or lightening.
The papers she held were vibrating with energy, rumbling with their own forces, nearly alive with their own breath, for they held the words of an Authority sent by God. A Messenger sent after 500 years of waiting and to reign for the next 500,000 poured forth onto these Holy Scripts words that would guide all of mankind for 10,000 generations.
Power such as this, is a threat to any cleric, or government based on religious dogma.
Her life was in danger with every breath she took. She delivered the Writings to waiting souls stirred alive to the point of eagerness to die for such a Cause. The threat was so great that 10’s of thousands did die, including the beautiful poetess Tahirih.
Hues of blue from the moonlight coated everything but the lights from the candles and oil lamps glowing orange from windows and crevices.
She made no sound, even from her sandals as she glided past pools with night lilies blooming in open-petalled embrace of the blue moonlight. The street became a path into the trees and all orange lights were now only spots in the distance. Had anyone seen her they would have found their breath taken by her beauty. Had they heard her speak they would have been astonished at her eloquence and wisdom. More so, that her voice conveyed a strength, depth, and confidence not ordinarily present in a woman's voice. It was captivating, magnetic.
Though completely covered, her hair was past her waist and every inch curly by nature and ebony in color.
Her spiritual family called her Solace of the Eyes. Some said those eyes had a mask made of light. Those who had seen this light had seen her fully expose her face, an act that was to be the harbinger of women's freedom and rise from oppression world wide for coming millenia.
Clutching a small wooden box containing a roll of parchment, she slipped through the trees and into the darkness as a sprite. The path was one which she had worn and was easily followed even in the dark for she dared not bring a lamp.
The intoxicating breath of the flowers, the lilies and the moonlight stirred her mind and moved her heart to spill forth poetry in her head as she sped along the path to her destination. Poetry to be read and understood in the language it was originally written. Poetry that would remain hidden until such time as the human heart could withstand its beauty and power. Poetry that could “transcend the murmur of syllables and sounds and rise above words and letters”… poetry borne of love beyond the understanding and grasp of the mind of common man ….until…. five centuries past the telling.
But it was not poetry in the scrolls concealed in the intricately handcarved, sandalwood box. It was not letters conceived in romantic euphoria whose secrets could not be exposed.
If the pen is mightier than the sword, and if words and thoughts are more powerful than bombs and cannons, she carried that which was more powerful than the strongest earthquake, tornado, monsoon, hurricane, tsu nami, flood, or lightening.
The papers she held were vibrating with energy, rumbling with their own forces, nearly alive with their own breath, for they held the words of an Authority sent by God. A Messenger sent after 500 years of waiting and to reign for the next 500,000 poured forth onto these Holy Scripts words that would guide all of mankind for 10,000 generations.
Power such as this, is a threat to any cleric, or government based on religious dogma.
Her life was in danger with every breath she took. She delivered the Writings to waiting souls stirred alive to the point of eagerness to die for such a Cause. The threat was so great that 10’s of thousands did die, including the beautiful poetess Tahirih.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Heading to Tempe for the Weekend
My soul mate -- Adrienne will be there and we can hug and laugh and scream and jump up and down and hug and laugh and scream...
She is God's gift to me this friend. She accepts me in all my crazy moods and in all my quirky ways of being a 'friend'. She knows first hand many of the pains I have overcome in my life and knows my part in them. She was given some particle of myself long before either of us were born, or else we ate from the same fruit. We connect across the continent without telephones or computers. Sorrows are halved and joys doubled.
Even though there is more than a decade difference in age --it doesn't show. We love the same music (mostly --we aren't clones after all), have a similar sense of humor, and many times when we are together, magic happens!!
I will post when I return to tell of the magical moments we may have shared.
She is God's gift to me this friend. She accepts me in all my crazy moods and in all my quirky ways of being a 'friend'. She knows first hand many of the pains I have overcome in my life and knows my part in them. She was given some particle of myself long before either of us were born, or else we ate from the same fruit. We connect across the continent without telephones or computers. Sorrows are halved and joys doubled.
Even though there is more than a decade difference in age --it doesn't show. We love the same music (mostly --we aren't clones after all), have a similar sense of humor, and many times when we are together, magic happens!!
I will post when I return to tell of the magical moments we may have shared.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)