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As It Was. . . .
Paraphrasing the Teacher in a journal entry of a December past. . . . ‘She quietly opens the door and slips to the crib, not knowing the child’s father has already retired for the night in the room. She watches the child in sickness and the son watches his mother with her magic chants as…
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Simple sums. . .Bread for the Day. . .
Simple Sums. . . Bread for the Day. . . . It seems the length of our lives is directly connected to our unresolves. ***** To find beauty in the doing, puts even the most menial task in the position of praising life. ***** Skirmishes, both large and small, are always grist for someone’s…
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Under The Wings. . . cont’d. . . .
(for my new readers and for those who needed to be reminded , I share again this vignette. I wish you a joyous holy day. . .) Do I have more minutes to finish? There was no time for answers because the little one with a dash was out of sight. In a few minutes…
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Under The Wings. . . .
In exasperation a beloved said it takes you a whole page to say you went to the corner! And I realize that was the answer to why my perspective is different and so is yours. We see and hear things differently because we endow life with who we are. My readers know that I…
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Many Truths. . .Many Worlds. . . .
A question arose when reading and I was ready to put down the book. Coming to mind were thoughts I had to make peace with. I had been told . . . ‘there are many truths. There is not just one truth and all else is false. All things are true in some place…
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The Lady Of The Blue Cloths. . . .
There are posts I have written that speak well to the present times. I think for those who follow me there might be some understanding from these earlier writings. There might be a moment when the thought comes, oh I see where she comes from. I hope so. For me it is a visit…
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Apriori. . . Before We Are Born. . .
The Twig Already Is Bent. . . Before We Are Born. . . Before. Apriori. I love that word but I don’t see it often. It encapsulates meanings long held on whatever subject. I use it to mean lives lived before now; some of us with long histories and others freshly minted. Those who think…
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Hope Enters With A Promise. . . .
Just do, she said and don’t ask why! It was her mantra, her Om, her ominous threat! This great, great grandmother of Emma E. with her brood of young held us all in check being a sergeant at arms. We muttered our displeasure but we did what needed to be done. We inherited what…
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Shared Silence
Shared Silence In rereading a journal entry of many years ago I wrote with little editing, ‘that my husband of more than a half century went out the door this morning with little communication. Though there was little talk, there was a communion of shared history in the house. I think that has replaced talking,…
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Does The World Stand Still For You?. . .
If memory serves me, the one thing I learned from what I have been told is that no one thinks like I do. Trust me, it was never a compliment from the time I was a child. When I first started this blog in 2011, I started with this poem. I excerpt. ‘How heavy…