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Prayer In Concert. . .
In Conference. . . I was a young girl when the priest came to our home and my mother saying. ‘I don’t know who teaches her because I don’t. I don’t know where she gets her ideas.’ Years of criticism for my different ideas but my work habits were praised. I was diligent, thorough and…
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The Invited Guest. . . .
We have those things that comfort and reassures us. It can be a photograph or a painting or something bringing to mind a feeling. It takes us to the place where we were all of a piece and peace. I have many such things and one of them is wood. My woodworking days were of…
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It Is Life Everlasting. . .
In Memory of a last day. . . In his last days before leaving Earth David asked, knowing what you know, how could you go on living? And I said there were three good reasons. Tresy, David and John, the jewels of my life. Never to have known them? That would have been…
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Drunk of the High Wine. . . .
It was a difficult lesson for me to integrate. It is for most people. One of quantum premises is that all time is simultaneous. Those who follow my blog know I speak of this often. It is difficult for me to write of experiences if I neglect to incorporate a fact that makes my work…
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Love Is The Answer. . .
Love, But Not Without Work. . . . It was with derision that laughter came because I said love was the answer. Naïve I was called and impractical. I was told I did not know how the real world works. But not without work I added. Love needed work. Wherever we were, the boots had…
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Upon Entry. . . a warm fire. . .
So much weather and all else happening that it is time for a light repast. It is time for a warm fire and a hot something with a bit of spice. It would be looked upon favorably. It is time for the head to rest and the body to recline. But only for a time. …
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Kindergarten. . .
To Play the Child. . . For whatever is not made peace with, will piece the person. It will break them into a million parts, never knowing it can be peaced, nor seeing how they contribute to it all, will leave the adult body still playing the child. When one operates from a child’s reference…
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The Bread Knows. . . .
Some days. . . are a wipe out. Only to do what one can. The Rabbi Teacher asked only one thing. ‘Feed the children.’ Sometimes the simplest command is shrouded by a complex system of thought. Think so? The Bread Knows the Feel of my Hands. . . I know the dust of the flower…
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The Snow May Blind Us. . .
This poem is one in the Psalms of Love. The book is available now in Kindle and is in process also, almost ready for print in paper back on Amazon.com. In the midst of this winter, I wanted to share my love for this season and will always love it especially. The most impressive part…
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The Gates of Heaven. . . .
When I Crashed The Gates. . . You ask. . . . How do you go to your knees and with tears bend and lift your head and to whom or to what? I say. . . . To a loving, wholly, holy Spirit that supports me with an embrace I know. . .…