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The Love Offering. . . the word is god. . . .
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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Maudie Update. . your way home is well lighted. .
Maudie Update Last week when I posted Again Maudie??? and asked if doves or birds blinked intentionally, on Saturday’s 15 July entry I knew. As I bid good morning to Maudie she blinked several times. Her eye was pinned on me and a veil dropped, a light grey, greenish color and covered the…
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Seriously Consider. . .
Seriously Consider. . . I go back to thinking time and again that one cannot ask to govern a body of men when one cannot govern one’s own body. And for those who say one’s private life has nothing to do with one’s public competence, I say character will determine private as well…
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On The Universal Watch. . .
There is a universally ineffable, inherent bedded value in all life that holds us all accountable. It is this which we must answer to. Not because of Others’ intent, but of our own basic divinity, our own intent. We may try to dismiss this urgency within us, but we cannot destroy it. It will…
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Trust; Maudie Again??
Maudie Again? Impossible! Maybe???? In April of 2016 I wrote of Maudie and Jack, the doves who took up residence one year beneath the patio cover of our Michigan home. They sat on eggs and hatched two babies. I did not take photos of that time but I did take notes. Since then there…
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A Chance For Love. . .
A Chance For Love Each day is a new beginning, each breath the birth of a new world. Time now to forgo the past and give life a chance. Accountable we are and to allow that to become a fact, it is the moment to begin anew. The poem will only take on…
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Rolling Thunder . . .
Last week I awakened with a memory of a place and trying to make sense of it. I realized I was given a piece of action to remember. I remember reaching for a framed photograph of silhouettes of the children when they were little. It was lying on the floor and as I tried…
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Pieces of Mind. . .
If it were not for those who make connections with events, mankind long ago would have eaten dirt. And it would have been the end of the sojourn. ***** Heaven opens momentarily and closes but the glimpses from the view linger and haunt one forever. ***** We endure those things we are powerless to…
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For Sitting On The Porch. . .
For almost half of my life, we lived in the one home during our marriage. And maintenance was my responsibility except for big construction work which was hired out. Every spring, staining the porch, (it is now called deck) was mine. And the first call of balmy weather had me with roller and brushes…
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A Cosmic Experience. . .
From a past journal entry. . . emotions become a burden needing to be understood before they are shrugged. Once understood they become integrated and no longer need to be carried. To understand the fullness of humanity is the first step toward the cosmic experience. When the feelings become more than the human body can…