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A Warm Hug. . .
\I was just 16 when my younger sister caught me in a lie leaving me so embarrassed that on the spot I knew that I would forever tell the truth. And from that moment on, I became a truth teller. I alibied others or as my sister said, made excuses for them, but was hard…
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As I See It. . .
As I See It . . . . There are no more answers anywhere except those written within the individual on his heart. It is all there for him to discover and what he discovers will be adequate for this time. It works to cover tracks and to discover just one more truth which…
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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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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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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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The Sages Kick Start. . .
I keep on hand stenographer tablets to jot down notes I think important in rereading the journal entries. I came across this poem thoughts. I do not know when I wrote it nor what entry prompted it. I may have been deeply focused in thought with someone. I remember the first line glimpse I…
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The Invited Guest. . . .
with hammer and saw and wood and file. . . . Many of us when…
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When It Escapes The Knowledge of Others. . . .
We have those close to us disturbing our righteousness when we shout ‘enough already!’ when the going is hard in our lives. They utter words like we make choices to suffer. For good, Fundamentalist friends no longer are so quick to speak their knowledge saying God must love you very much to send such…
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Me and Mother Nature Have a Something Going On. .
(please keep in mind my understanding that all time is simultaneous . ) In the April 10th 1992 journal entry I wrote of a prior conversation our second son David and I had before he left our Earth, (a philosophy major first before becoming a lawyer) about the benign nature of the Universe, being neither…