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Conversations: World Creation. . .
Conversations: World Creation . . . If it were not for the fact that our David came home for chemo treatment on a regular basis and he and I had dinner together at home, I would never have had the mind bending conversations we did. It was then I learned of world creation for…
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A Lesson In Strawberries. . . .
A Lesson In Strawberries. . . ( I awakened one recent morning in conference with someone who said it was again time for the article on the lesson in strawberries. Several years ago it was printed in The Detroit Free Press and has since been reprinted several times. A man appeared at my door the…
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The Past Is Still Happening. . .
Journal entry of November 3, 1983—(keep in mind I work with all time is simultaneous, a quantum premise, though I did not know it at the time when 35 years ago I was into black holes and white holes where this entry picks up) . . I scribed. . .It is no small thing when…
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So Much To Be Said. . . .
So Much To Be Said. . . You say, So much to be said. To take a hammer to a word and splinter it. . .what’s to be gained? I say, Where is the meaning if you don’t? You say, Let everyone take what is theirs and build on it.…
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When Love Was Rampant . . .
When Love Was Rampant. . . The bones creek and there is lack of motion because like the deep freeze enveloping the lakes, the skeleton is immobile. The comforter wraps around bony knees and hugs my chest while eucalyptus bathes what is left of my senses. The scent is clearly reminiscent of a…
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A sorrow hushed. . . the holocaust. . .
A sorrow hushed. . . the holocaust. . . My ears cleaved to the door frame of the dining room. Her whisper was hoarse, were there many? Lots, he said, lots, as he held the letter that told him what they saw. Speaking in broken English, he continued. They pushed for space, women…
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An Evergreen For Your Heart. . .
(I falter dreadfully. There was more violence in a school this week. I say that I will make another ocean with tears that do not stop. I cannot write nor put up a heart with a rip up the middle again. Cannot sew it up again. Then I read that someone pulled up a bygone…
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To The Old Country. . . immigrant I am. . .
Immigrant . . . I watched as you worked a mind through endless turmoil, sifting and sorting truth and fantasy and arriving. . . You opened eyes and unblinkingly stated, ‘you have always known, haven’t you? How did you do it?’ I knew I could not take even a moment of self revelation away,…
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Love and Beauty. . .right to life. . .
Emma E. has been promoted to a step down to less intensive care. She is at 37 weeks and two days ago was at 3 lbs 13 oz. The camera could only catch what was in the heart of the photographer. The love and beauty of both are palpable. They should be every child’s right…
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Skimming the Ethers. . .
Mother to child with expanding knowledge. . . ‘I don’t care in what lifetime you were Pope but in this life you clean up your own messes.. ! Now!!! ***** We clean our own doorstep before the children go out so that they do not step into the muck and mire we neglected to…