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The Broader Focus. . . .
The Larger Picture. . . One of the first joys of kindergarten I remember was being told to connect the dots and behold! A picture was formed within the larger picture and it was visible and I could identify it! What joy. It was a beginning for me then to look at everything to…
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Outside The Frame of Reference. . .
Outside The Frame of Reference. Oftentimes I seem to speak in a language that is foreign to my listeners, whether they be family or friends. What I say is obvious to me, clear as crystal and I am using the same words I hear from them all, but I stumble. I strive for a…
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Mega Observations. . .
Mega Observations. . . Oftentimes in retrospect, we would wish we demanded someone to grow up to matters requiring some degree of maturity. But how to do that? When a thing is outside our frame of reference, we will fight tooth and nail to remain innocent and free of taint of anything unfamiliar. Or what…
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However Long. . .
However long. . . . Coming into every family will be what a relative calls a misfit. And the label will stick. This often is a child with a need to know everything and talk. And more often than not, there will not be anyone to listen. Because there will be other children, work to…
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To Breathe Again. . .
Dog Days of The Lion When at the end of the dog days of the Lion and the garden is again conducive to prayer, arrange the knees bent in homage to the winter. It is time to pray the garden into being; the stage for the winter solstice. It is time to oil the tools…
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One World At a Time. . .
One World At A Time. . . The grounds are silent. I am here in the catacombs and yearning for words to frame my time. I enter the gleanings of my heart. Hear O’Lord, my bayings as the old wolf in the field, trying to awaken the Mind; as the old One mourned, that has…
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Considered Opinion. . . All Connected. . .
Considered Opinion, all Connected. . . It is good to see the best in people but one cannot be accountable for everyone. One cannot wish them onto a platform they are not an example for. ****** Too many children grow up knowing the failures of their parents and think their own fabric is torn.…
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August. . .
August It is August and there is a sliver of breath inside the sill. The deep breath of Autumn is, I think, a matter of time; perhaps only in the memory of the child anxious for the world of new books to open. Anxious for the toys of summer to be put aside to make…
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Thoughts Brought To The Table. . . .
Eternal is the hour which grants the heart time. Sacred is the vessel which yields the cup. ***** Life lived on a part time basis is for some more than enough to handle. ***** There is no talent which will be left unused and no path of interest unexplored. ***** There is sufficient time for…
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My Sister, My Earth. . . .
My Sister, My Earth. . . Like a compass, I stand, breathing deep and at the end of my arm stands the ancient city and at the top of my head the north wind still blows. Cooler by far during the last month of the year but still refreshing. How to love this Earth whose…