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August. . .
August. . . It is August and there is a sliver of breath inside the sill. The deep breath of autumn is, I think, a matter of time; perhaps only in the memory of the child anxious for the world of new books to open. Anxious for the toys of summer to be put aside…
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Papa, I Plead Now. . . or the dream will go begging. . . .
It is long past the time for all people to stand and demand of themselves to be infused with a steel core to uphold their wobbly selves. We have stood by and watched the principles upon which we have built our lives and our children’s heritage broken and by pieces swept away. It is long…
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Found Courage. . . .
There came a time when man decided to forget his Source and do life on his own. Since then it has been a game of catch up. Our progress has been nothing to shout about but there would be those who would argue with me about that. But for me it has been a matter…
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Forever Is Happening Now. . .
The miracle of life is that though we all hold different perspectives on everything, each of us, beast or human, we seem to hold an anchoring desire which is survival. And that desire somehow is enough to keep us afloat for however long. When we fail, we all fail and go down the tube together. …
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Gods Searching For an Enduring Peace. . . .
Life: a many faceted phenomenon. . . It is possible that what is called hardening of the arteries is given the dreaded name of Alzheimers or dementia is the brain’s evolution brought about by aging or psychological trauma. Either of those would be reason enough for portions of the brain closing. But what happens should…
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And we go home. . . .
And we go home. . . What will you do when fatigue overcomes and chores lay waiting and heart and conscience say you must speak to these babes? The work of your hands gives them a piece of you to hold and a piece of your heart. In it all will be gold. Take…
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In A More Perfect World. . .
There were just a few of us gathered when we were young and the talk was rising in enthusiasm about what a swath to be cut by the young on the political scene. There was energy and ideas with a tail wind to push these things to fruition. We would make a difference where our…
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On Wings Of Hope. . . .
Once Covered With Dreams. . . . Some may think there might be no choice on anyone’s part for any thing. All things may be a matter of destiny. Many think there are choices in all avenues. But supposing there are no conscious options. Supposing conscience already speaks on issues and there are no…
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Show Me. . .the highest altar of the Mind. . . .
It was only in rereading the journals for August of ’17 that I happened to come across these words. Oftentimes I don’t get back to entries long after they are written. And then I am often humbled by what is given. I am in the midst of this mental conference and when fatigue overcomes, I…
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With Full Knowledge of the Song. . . .
The Last Bird Sings. . . They said the pressures were such that would have put a pipe fitter under the foundation. . . I, naive, thought when I heard that she would not know she was between waxed sheets under a hot iron thought they talked of you. . . And I, obviously impaired…