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New World Carved Out Of Our Hearts. . .
When you asked the question. . . I don’t know that it occurred to me at some particular point, or that I always knew the moment you asked the question you already knew the answer because the process by which intelligence grows is by the conclusions reached by the hard work of consecutive thoughts…
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When You Need To See A Skyline. . . .
August 23, 2024. . . As an introduction for those new to my writing, you need to know that for me all time is simultaneous, it is all happening now. It need not be your understanding, just an acknowledgment that it is this way for me. It makes for easier understanding when your thoughts are…
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Immigrant. . . .
Although it was my best of intentions I don’t know why it was not obvious to those who claimed they knew me. But what they saw was some kind of favoritism but never the cost or the contract involved. That it could not be believed was understandable. But the next question should have been, why…
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To Remember Is Our Liberation. . .
I remember once or many times saying that I wish to pick up a book and understand what they were saying. I wanted wisdom. I wanted to understand. I wanted there to be a difference about me that others could see and say she is different. I am different. Our words are the same…
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An Affair Of The Heart. . .
An Affair Of The Heart. . . If you are a front line worker, a miracle worker appearing first to cries of crises, and you are driving home at the end of the day, you begin to talk in the silence of your car. You vent and cry with fatigue, with sadness, with curses…
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The Teacher. . . . (The Socratic Departure). . . .
The Teacher (The Socratic Departure) I will drink this cup of gall, swallowing the bitterness setting fire to earth’s waste. But first I caress this chalice. Its depth mirrors my heart, shaking the foundations of my very own selves. Now splendid trepidation challenge the ultimatums by which the earth rocks. Challenge me, o gods,…
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A Sorrow Hushed . . . . . .
A Sorrow Hushed. . . My ears cleaved to the door frame of the dining room. Her whisper was hoarse, were there many? Lots, he said, lots, as he held the letter that told him what they saw. They pushed for space, women and children and their men for best viewing. They wanted to see. …
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Freedom Is Never Free. . . .
May 13,2024. . . (I remember watching this particular morning show with concern because I take things personally. A dear friend said to me that was a hard way to live. If one does not take life personally, one then is a ‘walk through’. Where then is the meaning in life? And whose meaning would…
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The Present Not Wanted, But Needed. . . .
As I Watched. . . Part of a whole, yet wholly here. Slowly as I watched the silence was encompassing. Piece by blessed piece, each tree, each entity slowly folded upon itself and laid itself down. The screen protecting vanished as it bent itself into nothing, a wisp of an idea no…
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My Keys in the Palm of My Hand . . . . .
In reviewing decades of my life with my kaleidoscopic perspective, is a stressful endeavor. I was cautioned to go slow. ( At 92, how fast can I possibly go at this time?) Most people are given to wait until they are on the side where support friends already are. Or here and I laughed…