-
This Valentine Heart. . .
It is a truth. . . . Sometimes we cannot improve upon a something that supports a truth and this is one of those times for me. On this Valentine’s Day, to all who are bereft and do not or have not known love, what is missed is something you have known somewhere at some…
-
We Need Not Speak. . .
We Need Not Speak. . . We need not speak. Centuries ago we passed from realms noted for words. We now simply look toward the Other and know by obvious signs what the Other seeks. It is a far cry from the world of words where the simple I love you spoke what…
-
The Illusion. . .
THE ILLUSION I try to grasp your beloved face, graphically placing it on the mind’s canvas, filling the valleys with fuller’s earth and chiseling the planes with a serpent’s tooth. Devouring every detail with a feverish eye to circumvent time’s mortal immortality. But why do I bother with mortal flesh precluding…
-
A World I Cannot Place. . .
As we approach Valentine’s Day, I will be choosing some poetry from a work called Psalms of Love. One chosen to begin is A World I Cannot Place, recently written but not yet included in the work. Memory is a powerful tool we are graced with and it comes with questions that have many…
-
It Is Good. . .
It is not without recourse that the soul cries in the night. It is not with abandon that the individual who mourns whatever loss, be it of his innocence, or that of physical parting, is left. We know and are known and never is there a thought which rises from the physical brain and…
-
Beneath My Heart. . .
I was lying in the hospital bed and knowing that my body was having a difficult time. I was clear of head knowledgeable when I saw the figure at the foot of my bed. And an arm was raised clothed in a grey robe and the hand was outstretched. I lay there with both arms…
-
Will It Be Me?
Jane Roberts in the 60’s and 70’s when I discovered her and her Seth books, was talking about quantum physics. She didn’t call it that but Seth was saying that all time is simultaneous. And she had physicists calling her because even then they were silently interested in what Seth had to say. And she…
-
When The Fir Tree Stood. . .
There will be those who question whether it is my memory of having lived a life or many during the formation of this Earth or whether it is genetic memory passed through the ages and lodged within my mind. Or possibly a parallel life living in the capacious present since all time is simultaneous as…
-
We All Take The Journey. . . sometime. .
We All Take The Journey. . . sometime When I approach a subject that some find uncomfortable, I am told bluntly, I don’t want to go there. Some people simply find it untenable to think outside their comfort zone. But we all will take the journey to the center of who we are…
-
Once A Dream. . . (it is what it is)
Once a Dream. . . The windows are askew, even broken in some panes. The jambs at angles leaning drunkenly. I know they were a dream in some distant place, driving a soul to unbelievable ends, putting hopes together to hold the dream aloft; a boundary only to keep it from crashing before…