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Rocking The Boat. . .
He was five years old and did not want to go back to kindergarten. I don’t want to read to the class while the teacher teaches the green color to the other kids. I don’t want to read the baby books he said because he was already reading higher grades by himself. The teacher was…
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The Journey Begins. . .
What Have You Done? (understanding) They will ask, what have you done with your life and in truth I will answer. I have alibied and done laundry for a world so soiled that even bleach couldn’t reach. I have waited for the winter snows to cover the debris to give surcease to eyes that tire. …
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If I Could See Me. . .
I was getting dinner for Sunday noon. I was in the process of setting the table and finishing up. I was listening to Carl Hass give his voluminous views on classical music radio when I heard him say Bach’s little suite. And when I listened it was the same feeling I had when I…
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Commitment; a sacred obligation. . .
Scribed journal entry of 24 years ago to compare to today’s events. Who would argue the quantum theory that all time is simultaneous? The journal entry began. . . your inlaw mother told you that she wishes she had known you, that you had been her teacher. She knows you present a healthy attitude…
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By Divine Grace. . .
When it comes to memory, how do we separate what is currently ours? Yet the question should be, what is not ours when we are part of humankind? What can we separate from since we do not know what it is we have participated in since time began? Have we lived before? What is…
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Time For Work To Be Done. . .
It was a desolate landscape. There were ice mountains in the background. There was a building, more barracks like with no thing, nothing around it. The moon was white and things were outlined but barely so. Sparse would be putting it gently, but desolate and bare of life would say how tragic it felt. I…
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Time To Listen. . . .
Time To Listen It is not as easy as it seems. Try to think, to place in mind a picture of a Being other than human. We have our science fiction writers who give us caricatures of what they suppose we would accept. The images in fact may be actual. Consider that. I had awakened…
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Beyond Morsels. . .
Beyond Morsels. . . . When one needs a fire to rest by, one often has to build it first. But no fire made by other hands warms as compared with effort gone into the building and fanning of one’s own flame. ***** You cannot list the world’s disorders without revealing yours in duplicate. You…
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The Laughter. . .
In a lifetime of many years, certain things stand out as a moment imprinted on a mind to last forever. One is the good fortune of living as a neighbor to a family of daughters. Their laughter in the course of days that presented worrisome events, was the hallmark for life, that somehow my own…
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When The House Sleeps. . .
Mornings have always been special. The sounds blended on the street when Princess and I walked; the lights in the homes spoke of early risers, the occasional car with lights on. The dog down the street spoke his urgency to get matters started. There still is a benevolence to the morning which I would…