-
Making A Money Cannot Touch Difference . . . .
We have been overwhelmed with the breaking news of national and international consequence. I leave those voices to reweave the news and now give thought to what we share in common when even sleep does not rescue us. Our efforts to make a difference seem embarrassing when the world needs a step -in by…
-
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…
-
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…
-
The Invisible Challenge . . . .
The Invisible Challenge . . . I post today a subject close to my heart and mind that boundaries in thought subject our young people in ways detrimental to their growth and honesty. It comforts the adults to be sure but the relationship goes nowhere. With Sunday’s go to church approaching,…
-
The Lesson In Strawberries. . . .
5/31/24. . . There is always a someone in mind when I wish to repeat a post. A reason because I want to shout to the world that here is a person of worth and high calibre that the rest of the world does not know as we who know and love her. And…
-
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,…
-
A Monk In Brown Burlap . . . 1790. . .
How Not To Attach The Fabric Of The Global House. . . They say. . You have to keep it singular. . . You have to keep it nuclear. . . You have to keep it private. . . and remembering different in any way is not good. I tell you. . . You…
-
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. …
-
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…
-
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…