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A God Work

When we write our own personal ambitions out of the picture, we kill
all illusions.   I feel kindly toward illusions and see them for what they
are.   They are the finery with which we dress all the dailyness, all the
scullery to make it not only bearable but to elevate it also.  That is a
noble endeavor.   It is a god work.

There is much work for both men and women that I call scullery.  It
is the scut work that keeps civilizations from crawling on their
bellies.   I often thought that heaven was on the side of public utilities
for just that reason.   It was the only way to contain the diseases from
killing off humankind.

A lifetime of working with illusion can produce great results.   They
can add impressively to the record of man.   What we do is think a
problem through many times to come to some conclusions, strictly
by effort.   When that effort is noticeable, other elements contribute
and can be either visible or invisible.   When we think we can make a
difference and see positive results, it can be and often is illusion that
drives us.   When we see the results in the here and now it is a
reinforcing factor.   We must take into consideration that even when
our efforts are not visible,  we cannot discount them.   What are not
visible of course are the parallel worlds that the physicists as well as
mystics speak of.   When we think of thoughts as things, as having a
weight and a substance to them, they can be of use in many worlds.
It is not a far stretch from ‘my father’s house has many rooms.’   In
the Dead Sea Scrolls it was found in the gospel of Thomas where the
disciples questioned Jesus as to where they would go when they died,
convinced there was a place.   And he replied that they never
questioned where they had come from so why worry where they will
be going.   Since this has been an independent study for many years
with me,  I find the knowledge of many worlds comfortable.   It makes one clean up one’s thoughts a bit and maybe some might think it adds to my illusions.   But when we give weight to illusions and life to them, we also add to the richness of physical life.   No one knows for certain where our thoughts settle.   I hope that what I think will make my light brighter and our universe(s) all inclusive.

What I am certain of is a dim bulb soon goes out.

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The Homecoming

My warm breath makes a circle of clear space
on the frosted pane.  I gaze at empty horizons
willing your outline to appear
to give this day extra measure.

You move into view with water pails swinging,
from shoulders whose strength I know by heart,
with strides cleanly cutting
the knee high snow, effortlessly.

I move within the circle and my warm world,
eagerly awaiting your shout and stamp of feet
on the threshold, feeling already
your cold face along the line of my throat.
The woolen nap of your winter shirt
is rougher even than my hands.

It’s been too long you say since you left.
And I laugh.  Hardly time enough to clean the barn
for barely were you gone an hour.
And here already.  My day has taken shape.

                                   *****

The stamp of feet, the key turns
and the door clicks open.
My hands press the smooth fabric of your
well tailored coat and do not catch.
I take the leather briefcase from your hands
and lift my head for the homecoming.
It’s been so long that you are gone, I say, and you laugh.
I’ve only been gone a week this time, you say.

I turn again to the window to find it frosted over.
And know that worlds have died
and been reborn in less time.

And today, another one.

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A Fable and A Lark

Adam arrived and called Eve
to join him for dinner.
She did and they feasted well
in the beginning of the great deep.
Together they cavorted and played
and made love while merry.
Cain and Abel arrived
and the merriment ceased.

They bickered and fought and competed
for their place in the sun.
The gods who made them fought and bickered
for Adam and Eve and Cain and Abel
were what their gods had made.

Together, altogether the merriment stopped
and serious business was on the agenda.
Serious business like power games and
competition and who was going to be king of the mountain.
For in a new kingdom with no memory of home,
they did not remember who they were.

Altogether now, altogether,
we follow the prophets as they wrote history
from memory, eliminating curious details such as
why?  when?  and what for?
Nowhere do we find the fact that Adam
aged and became paunchy while his liver became swollen
with the fruits of the vine made soluble.

Nowhere do we scan the real dilemma for Lady Eve.
The voices shouted her guilt
in eating the forbidden fruit of knowledge,
for all hell broke loose when the woman claimed
her innate intelligence.    Lady Eve, of course,
assumed the guilt because of course they all said
she was guilty.  Did her god speak to her?
Was she told `not!  not!  Eve, bad!  bad!?

Or did she simply see that food was needed
for dinner and what was at hand was easier
than getting a basket and going marketing in the woods.
Since everything was good in the world where she was,
‘not good’ was outside her frame of reference.

The apple tree was there so Eve picked a ripe apple
and shared it with Adam.    Since Adam wanted
to get on with other things, we must chalk up one
for woman’s practicality.    Only now we realize
that Adam could have rejected her offer.

Had there been an ordinance against eating apples,
perhaps it would have been easier to understand.
With no memory of home, it was with enormous courage
Eve came to earth where her god was not.
The no!  no! she possibly heard
stopped her long enough one would suppose
to take responsibility for a decision
which proved delicious to the palate.
They ate the apple with gusto.
The `why?’ went unanswered to satisfaction
and the `because I said so!’ has been heard
by every child ‘s query since.

And that started the gods speaking the parts
and the players rehearsing their own methods
so they could become gods on their own.
And a potpourri of too many words still unclear
cluttered the air waves and chaos ensued.
For who was bright enough to discern all the yodeling?

Except maybe Eve.

So knowledge was born and the ability to test
first hand all things on earth, uncontaminated.
It was unspoiled, unpolluted and all good
for the human species.    Eve was the originator
of the hands on policy.   She taught us
that the exigency of the moment is best met
with what we possess and the moment of decision
will announce who we are.

So Eve’s god had a hard time with her,
for a woman of knowledge claimed her right.
She had the ability to make a judgment which
was to become valid.

We still eat apples, don’t we?

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Let Us Vow

Let us vow. . .
that when we cannot share
our brother’s Light.
we will hold the candle
as he makes his way up.

Let us vow. . .
to embed love
within our four walls
so that our children
will be instruments of Peace.

Let us vow. . .
to love one another
so that Peace is not a promise
but a fact.

Let us vow. . .
a noble vigil
in the Names of All we hold dear.

Amen.  And Amen.

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Christmases Past

Lifetimes lived secreted
behind the wooly frames of memory.

We jog the frames
of Christmases past.

Scents of
pine boughs and holly berries,
mince pies and cranberries.

Sounds of
apple crisp snow and crackling fires,
and laughter.

And the sound of silence,
as love stretches through all dimensions
to encircle Thee and Me.

As real, as tangible,
as the star beams
on the evergreen.

A promise given and kept.

Do you hear the angels?

2

Times Such As These

I lock up the room
after filing the last remnants
of words laying about unattended.

Fearful that pieces of my heart
may be found scattered among them.
And why not?

Times such as these
leave us with little salve
to heal the open wounds
which once were hearts.

For whom do we weep?
The children whose siblings
will no longer come to the table
to convey with no doubt
the events that stole their innocence?

Or the parents
whose hearts were transplanted
when word came
that these unspent stars
were already breathing the rarefied air
as heaven’s most blessed?

Look at us here.
Pleading that our children
will be safe as they try to understand
what we in our dotage
have not learned;
to resort to arms

means death in any country.

4

Kiss The Moon Arrives!

I am pleased to do this post because today we picked up the books,
Kiss The Moon,  A Woman Speaks And Gives Grace, from the printers
and this weekend I will package and send out those that have been
ordered.   And for the readers in England who have wished for my books,
I will be happy to take your orders.    When I am at the post office,  I will
inquire about postage to the U.K. and reach an equitable rate.   I do so
wish for you to have my books.   I was so pleased to hear that my website
was to be taken as their book club’s topic.  My work was to be discussed
and I am proud of the life  I have lived that has brought forth a work of
caliber that other women wish to discuss.  It is an affirmation of a part
of my life that was woven into the main body of me and my commitments.
I can say in honesty as I live in the winter of my days that I would not
have wanted to miss a moment of it.   Still honestly say also that there
were times I wished that events were not mine to live through.   But it is
what makes our lives rich beyond description and meaningful.

These are soft cover copies of Kiss The Moon and the thrill of holding
the  first copy was as wonderful as the first hard cover many years ago.
But costs being what they are in this day,  we went with the soft cover.
The Last Bird Sings is also soft cover and the companion books will be sent
in one mailing if they are ordered at the same time.

For those who are looking at my wall quilts,  by bringing them up on
your screen and clicking on them, you will find the quilts on the left and
a description on your right.   For a clearer view, double click on the
quilt and it will be brought front and center with a white border around it.
You will then see clearly the details.  The smaller details seen on two can
be clicked on and brought forward for better views.  You can contact me
with any questions and I will be glad to discuss them.   This has been a
wondrous year for me.   Not without its challenges, but wondrous.   And
I appreciate your interest and comments in me and my work.

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