-
On Bended Knee. . . Peace-d
It is on bended knee that I approach my blog with what nearly a century of living has taught. With what I have learned of our holographic universe, acknowledging talents given at birth or contracted for I must speak my experience. It is a linear world we live in to help us learn. It can…
-
Come Veronica, there is a bridge we can sell you. . .
The old argument came up about my impracticality. Others have difficulty following me. Yet I was seeing to home maintenance over the years with no help, 20 white shirts a week ironed, suits pressed, meals on time, lawns manicured, and best of all, children reared and raised in love. And office work for those many…
-
The Vault Of God. . . you know, my friend, you know. . . .
‘How did you know to do it?’ he asked. I loved and raised babies and painted roses on their cheeks and planted evergreens in their hearts. Now you should put the sabers at the foot of the evergreens. The dove sings high, gargles her song at times, but you know my friend,…
-
The Love Offering. . . the word is god. . . .
They were just children with a love offering. It glinted in the ground and when picked up it glittered as a star in the sky. Of course it would be given to the one loved most! And with grimy hand and full heart it was. With words accompanying the gift, they spilled as starbeams through…
-
On The Universal Watch. . .
There is a universally ineffable, inherent bedded value in all life that holds us all accountable. It is this which we must answer to. Not because of Others’ intent, but of our own basic divinity, our own intent. We may try to dismiss this urgency within us, but we cannot destroy it. It will…
-
Trust; Maudie Again??
Maudie Again? Impossible! Maybe???? In April of 2016 I wrote of Maudie and Jack, the doves who took up residence one year beneath the patio cover of our Michigan home. They sat on eggs and hatched two babies. I did not take photos of that time but I did take notes. Since then there…
-
A Chance For Love. . .
A Chance For Love Each day is a new beginning, each breath the birth of a new world. Time now to forgo the past and give life a chance. Accountable we are and to allow that to become a fact, it is the moment to begin anew. The poem will only take on…
-
Rolling Thunder . . .
Last week I awakened with a memory of a place and trying to make sense of it. I realized I was given a piece of action to remember. I remember reaching for a framed photograph of silhouettes of the children when they were little. It was lying on the floor and as I tried…
-
For Sitting On The Porch. . .
For almost half of my life, we lived in the one home during our marriage. And maintenance was my responsibility except for big construction work which was hired out. Every spring, staining the porch, (it is now called deck) was mine. And the first call of balmy weather had me with roller and brushes…
-
With Your Name. . .
With Your Name. . . From a past journal entry . . I seem to be aware of a depth this morning of a something that shoulders my weight and carries me. That the words I speak have little meaning. They are simply words. And yet, what I would wish is to reach down into…