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The Rose In December. . .
I started to make our Christmas cards when I couldn’t find a card to translate our hearts when our David was diagnosed with cancer. Many of our friends over the years have kept the cards I have made. It warms my heart to hear them called the Veronica Files. My efforts in artwork have always…
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Still In A Time Of Infamy. . .
Pardon Me While I Cry. . . My oldest brother Edward was 20 years old on December 7, 1941 and I was 10. I will never forget my mother’s tears and lamentations when word came over the radio that Pearl Harbor was under attack. ‘Matko Bosko’ (mother of god) she wailed. Edward was…
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Centuries To Arrive. . . .
Centuries to get here . . . . There are those of us who are sensitive to our inmost thoughts and often we consider them nightmares. A favorite writer tells of his dreams that leave him unanchored. They take his equanimity and disable him. Like his, my journey for years left me with events that…
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The Sexual Revolution. . .
The Sexual Revolution . . . With all that is coming out and many falling from grace, I want to add some thought to what is happening. After a lifetime of building a philosophy because I felt bereft from birth without one, I have studied on a daily basis and have come to some conclusions. …
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A Chance For Love. . .
A Chance For Love. . . Each time is a new time. Cast in the shadow of a rock, a cave, or even a cove. . . Simply set and inspired by a rolling coast, a sunset, a glimpse of a new place. . . New tidings of good cheer; a glass of sweet wine,…
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The Uncovering. . . .
Teach The Lessons Well. . . Again from a journal entry the Teacher speaks on evolution. . . in the evolution of genes, in cleaning up genetic history, we talk of literally thousands of years. But with emphasis not on the helplessness of man, but with concerted thought and concerted direction, there can be…
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Happy Thanksgiving. . . my heart’s gratitude. . .
How Much Of A Difference. . . It was morning, though the night still hung heavy; the clouds hovered, the sun unable to rise. The children gathered for breakfast; morose and angry, heavy still with sleep. Mother looked with unhappy eyes and father, already delayed flew out the door. What could she plan for this…
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A Need To Know. . .
In the sixties I wrote a poem called Resolution which ended with the following lines. (excerpt from Resolution) I have come into the Light but what to do? On the day I was one, I became two. Now I am two. What to do but seek and seek again until I find I walk…
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From Where Did You Come ? . .
On September 28, 2017 I posted a segment called Angels Unaware. It was about a dream I had that stayed with me and was highly detailed. A young teacher of hearing impaired students was teaching them how to read people and speak with almost perfect diction. The dream stayed with me and because it was…
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Hunger For Knowledge. . .
Hunger For Knowledge. . . The hunger for knowledge knows no bounds and the kind of acceptance which bespeaks the heart which no longer cares enough to fight for its own existence nor the existence of an Other will soon lose the fight altogether. Caring is in style. Nurturing is in style one way or…