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Toward a Destiny. . . . .
Wild geese move within the moments of their destiny framing patterns; struck upon the naked sky. Clocked by indiscreet motions they move in gentler waves instinctively. A buoyancy feathered, sustained by automatic evolution, lay garnered, taken by trust. Confirmed of their geesehood, they soar, with speed amid the chastening winds and luring skies.…
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A Resting Place. . . .
Conclusions are reached by methodical circumcision. We cut apart our hearts and yield what we can. ***** There will always be those things which cost dearly and have no remunerative value. They may be outside our frame of reference but are recognized when the time is right. Then you know you have paid dearly…
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I Am Glad We Are Found. . . .
Wherever we are, it seems only meet and proper to have August cease its summer heat and prepare mentally for the oncoming North Wind. It seems it has forgotten about us blistering in the heat. I am glad we are found. Though conditions prevent our entry back to the classroom in many places, …
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When We Handicap Our Young. . . .
They were just children with a love offering. It glinted in the ground and when picked up it glittered as a star in the sky. Of course it would be given to the one loved most! And with grimy hand and full heart it was. With words accompanying the gift, they spilled as starbeams through…
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Given. . . With A Promise. . .
With a Promise. . . With the ongoing grief affecting so many in our nation, this was a gift given and I share with you. Our thoughts have a weight and those needing those thoughts are open to us. There will be a tomorrow somewhere. . . and we are asked to live…
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The Best Learning Place. . . Our Earth. . .
A great day at the Park. . . . It was another difficult day with health issues and no energy to cope. And then this ray of sunshine was on my computer. Her grandfather saying this little engineer put the frame for the folding camp chair (with many shock corded legs) together, all by…
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Dr. Jonas Salk. . Conscious Evolution. . .
Having been an avid newspaper addict, and leaning to clutter, I tackled a box of clippings yellow with age because then there was no money to buy books. The local libraries knew the boys and this mother well. So I read for the past week brittle clips mostly from early 80’s. I placed aside an…
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No Space To Grow Bread. . . .
No Space To Grow Bread. . . They are young, you say, with hormones raging in bodies, having no desire for libraries and no entry monies for museums . . . In these places, soldiers in perilous times were forever sowing seeds of freedom, with farmers tilling soil of rocks and clay to…
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We Only Begin. . .
(I have edited this entry for space) The entry doesn’t sound like much, but when the footwork is done, integrated, along with sorting religious dogma shouldered throughout lifetimes, the work is immense. Done while raising a family and living a life with its responsibilities, was difficult at best. It has stymied many a stronger and…
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Memory Quilt. . . in triumph warmed. . . .
Many of us have problems that have no resolution. Even after doing all the things we have learned and read about and even those things we have invented, there appear no answers on the horizon. We lose hope and we ourselves are at a loss. It seems strange and baffling that nothing is working. …