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No Place To Go . . . .
There are others who have experience in matters not common. I have kept notes on dreams and researched my experiences. I could not speak openly and was cautioned much because of public circumstances. Times are different and I speak for the children who are different. There are babies now being born who have been mentored and…
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If We Sing To The Children. . but you know. . . .
There comes to mind that time warp where events leave their linear places and congregate in the place where we know that thunderous motions occur with the simplest actions. Or even with no action. Like the times my brother Stanley and I discussed what he saw along the road but knew immediately I knew…
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the heart will shout its validity. . . . . .
July 8, 2021 . . I need to put this down before it goes into the forget pile. As most things do nowadays. But this I think is most important because we as a nation are becoming most distrustful as well as unforgiving about differences within even our families. It is a despairing situation, and…
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The Hard Work of Thought. . . .
It seems going through my head are many things connecting to all things. Nothing stands alone. I am not sure where to begin, if there is a beginning. Perhaps that is what we have to learn, that there is no beginning and no end. It can start anywhere for me and therefore anywhere for you. …
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Pray the garden into a sanctuary. . . . . .
On May 14, 2021, I posted Time’s Gleanings. It is a collection of paradigms as a brief respite in diets of heavy lessons. My last maxim of that post reads like this. . . ‘Like a dancer learning the discipline of a new score, we have rehearsed minute by minute to come to this place, …
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My reason. . . Because Of Love. . . . .
Explanation Caught in Part. . . In the beginning, in the place where I came from, there was a veil covering the foetus, the skin of man. I remember the place and the one who sent me here. He said it was because he loved me, and all those who would be part…
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Each One. . .Teach One. . .
. . . It always is a struggle between the correct thing and the right thing, no matter the subject or the action. The correct thing is not always comforting nor comfortable. And it generally is confrontational. Too much on our plate and we already want to hit delete. But whooooaaa!!! We…
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The Paris Incident. . . .
So now I write about the entries and how they are verified. When we moved from Michigan, we were aged with health problems. I tired quickly accounting for sometimes sparse writings. I now spend more time reading the journals and making notes amazed at what was accomplished. The puzzling habit still baffles. . .why was…
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All Who I Am . . . Our Coats Of Many Colors. . .
I write again of my coats of many colors. Because I love and care for those in my life and love life itself, I will repeat those of my posts I feel urgent about. Since I have memories and dreams of lives lived and have written of them, apologetically lacking times, I rightfully attest to…
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Beneath the Wings. . . . .
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