Author: Veronica Hallissey

  • From The Top Of My Heart. . .

      (January 29, 2017 journal entry I want to share.  It is only in rereading that I realize that I connect all manner of things in thought.  It is the reason for my seamless existence.  It all connects.) Man cannot put in what God has left out.  Joe Biden in the Clarence Thomas hearings said…

  • What I See. . .

    On Different Perspectives. . . . What is so apparent to you is not apparent to the Other.  To view with compassion is difficult when the vision of the Other is limited.  He/she would wish another just like them.  Just as you would wish to share your vision.  It is a common human condition and…

  • Old Friends Breaking Bread. . .

    Oftentimes the greater picture is chosen to be forgotten because it is necessary to have the script as authentic as possible.  If knowledge were part of the picture, chances for the lessons to be taught would be hampered.  So love is as powerful as the anguish and the angst  in their teaching the veracity of…

  • This Valentine Heart. . .

    It is a truth. . . . Sometimes we cannot improve upon a something that supports a truth and this is one of those times for me.   On this Valentine’s Day, to all who are bereft and do not or have not known love, what is missed is something you have known somewhere at some…

  • We Need Not Speak. . .

        We Need Not Speak. . . We need not speak. Centuries ago we passed from realms noted for words. We now simply look toward the Other and know by obvious signs what the Other seeks. It is a far cry from the world of words where the simple I love you spoke what…

  • The Illusion. . .

            THE ILLUSION I try to grasp your beloved face, graphically placing it on the mind’s canvas, filling the valleys with fuller’s earth and chiseling the planes with a serpent’s tooth. Devouring every detail with a feverish eye to circumvent time’s mortal immortality. But why do I bother with mortal flesh precluding…

  • A World I Cannot Place. . .

      As we approach Valentine’s Day, I will be choosing some poetry from a work called Psalms of Love.  One chosen to begin is A World I Cannot Place, recently written but not yet included in the work. Memory is a powerful tool we are graced with and it comes with questions that have many…

  • An Alternate View. . .

        An Alternate View. . . Jesus said all ye are liars, but  a family member commented on that with  you can always catch a thief but you can never catch a liar.  Liars are slippery.  But even this is psychologically damaged goods, a coping mechanism somebody made to survive.  And somebody browbeat the…

  • It Is Good. . .

      It is not without recourse that the soul cries in the night.  It is not with abandon that the individual who mourns whatever loss, be it of his innocence,  or that of physical parting, is left.  We know and are known and never is there a thought which rises from the physical brain and…

  • Beneath My Heart. . .

    I was lying in the hospital bed and knowing that my body was having a difficult time.  I was clear of head knowledgeable when I saw the figure at the foot of my bed.  And an arm was raised clothed in a grey robe and the hand was outstretched.  I lay there with both arms…