Category: Prayers

  • the last bird sings. . . .

    This is a very difficult post for me to write.   Since I have been blogging, I have shared many personal thoughts. What has caused me pain is fully factual and I encourage my readers to Google it.  I have no credentials after my name but I am entering the last decade of my hundred years…

  • the twig already bent from a somewhere and . . . when. . .

          How To Do It. . . .when I scribe. . . . You ask. . .             On focusing, your thoughts, your words. . .             how do you do it? I say. . .   I barrel down into my center and listen             with my inner ear and hear what…

  • Love Awaits . . .with a putting place. . .

    October 27, 2022. . .(I posted this essay more than 5 years ago and my thoughts today have only deepened.  The wish I hold still is that there would have been someone early on that I could have voiced my thoughts with no fear.  In my terminus I fulfil the old maxim that the end…

  • Why the words. . .

    I wrote in September ’87 journal that  I glanced at Ernie and Frank’s (I think) cartoon on my desk.  Descartes says, I think therefore I am.  And the gent disappears after being told this and the logical thought is, if I don’t think, I am not.  And like tea, I steep, how can one live…

  • Within Memory Recalled. . .

      Home of One’s Soul The Teachers Speak. . . Every so often, out of one’s domain, there is an isolation that swamps one. It is difficult to shake, and yet there it is, evidence that this is not home. There is a portion or many portions appealing to one, yet basically, the at home feeling…

  • With Gratitude served. . . .

        Come To My Table Come to my table and sit awhile and I will tell you tales of years gone by, attended by loves and those who held magic in their hands. We have supped and laughed and cried some, but mostly told the tales that love spun out of gold. It was…

  • Why Hope Springs Eternal . . . .

    The Road To Damascus. . . And Paul, on the road to Damascus, unaware of forces pulling at his thought was none the less surprised. In the privacy of mind, how could an invasion of thought not his own be in conference? So it is, in the wars of the visible and invisible worlds, the…

  • With These Hands. . . love. . . gratitude. . .

      To Use These Hands. . . . from another time. . . As dawn breaks, my fingers of both hands curl about each other and I marvel at their slimness, their ability to elicit the feel of themselves, each digit wrapped around the other. And I think that nothing, no other world will ever…

  • You Will Fall In Love With Your Earth. . .

      Tell me what it means. . . With the leaking draft of the early consensus of the Roe v Wade controversy,  suddenly confronting me  are meanings of words and phrases I have used and hopefully explained my meanings.  I truly don’t know if my  meanings relate to what you think about the subjects I’ve…

  • They Are Reasons and what has taken almost a hundred years. .

    Having been a newspaper clipper when living in Michigan with the Detroit Free Press,  I rediscovered  things.  One was Bob Talbert’s article speaking of Monsignor Francis X. former professor and rector of Sacred Heart Seminary and what he passionately preached to his students. . . Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they…