A River Runs Through It [Life lessons offered by rivers]

Rivers eventually reach the sea,
rejoining the “source.”

In completing their lives,
they offer replenishment to the oceans,
so that life may continue.

Without this cycle, we’d have no rain, and no rivers.
[We’d also have no rainbows.]

The sea is always the same,
yet is always changing.
The same water has been there for eons,
yet it’s been cycled over and over into clouds,
rain, lakes and rivers.

Ever-flowing; ever-changing,
life is also always the same,
Yet is always changing.

How you live therefore is a choice.

Perhaps the way you live your life could,
like rivers and the sea,
touch, enrich and nourish all those with whom you come into contact.


From a Hawaiian poem:
Be like the ocean.
Be open to changes,
be excited about new challenges and share these moments with each other in the new year!

Moving

Moving in the direction of being one mind.
Learning the essence of your soul,
treasuring your time.

Waiting to hear your voice
and imagine your touch.

Basking in the radiance of your beauty,
I would enjoy that very much.

Being tied to your strings and twisted all around.
My destination is your heart,
where I want to be bound.

Staying on course along the road that I have traveled a time or two.
Moving in the direction that will end with you.


By: Shirley A. Jackson

The front row

Life is a theater, so invite your audience carefully.

Not everyone is worthy enough and/or healthy enough to have a front row seat in our lives.
There are even some people in your life that need to be loved from a great distance, yet, I am moving away from the topic.

It's amazing what you can accomplish when you let go, or at least minimize your time aroind draining , negative, incompatible, not-going-anywhere relationships, friendships, fellowship even! Observe the relationship around you. Pay attention to which ones have left and which ones still lean upon you? which ones encourage and which ones discourage? which ones are on a path of growth uphill and which ones going downhill? when you leave certain people, do you feel better or feel worse? Which ones always have drama or don't really understand, and appreciate you and the gift that lies within you?

The more you seek God and the things of God--- the more you seek quality, the more you seek not just the hand of God but the face of God---therefore, the more you seek things that are honorable--- the more you seek growth, peace, love and truth around you, the easier it will become for you to decide who gets to sit in the FRONT ROW and who should be move to the balcony of life of your life.

You cannot change the people around you.... but you can change the people you are around! Ask God for wisdom and discernment and choose wisely the people who sit in the FRONT ROW of life.

Beautiful words...

"To believe is to know that every day is a new beginning.
It is to trust that miracles happen, and dreams really do come true.
To believe is to see angels dancing among the clouds,
To know the wonder of a stardust sky and the wisdom of the man in the moon.

To believe is to know the value of a nurturing heart,
The innocence of a child's eyes and the beauty of an aging hand,
for it is through their teachings we learn to love.

To believe is to find the strength and courage that lies within us.
When it is time to pick up the pieces and begin again.
To believe is to know we are not alone,
That life is a gift and this is our time to cherish it.

To believe is to know that wonderful surprises are just waiting to happen,
And all our hopes and dreams are within reach.

If only we believe."


Author Unknown

I am, Only Human

Only Human

Time is mostly itself when passing.
So bees wend high above the road
Where a fine dust cloud rises
And white birds appear in the gathered green.

No painter here to take their wing to canvas,
No inscrutable simplicity in a crack heads cluttered mime,
No poet giving voice to mute mud,
No philosophic sap, swollen knot of superadded wisdom,
Nor a Christ lodged in the slowing green snail . . .

Such are limp hands white with sleep,
Hair as water burns on golden sand,
Or wooden dark in its stillness.

It be the blaze of afternoon brings the heat of world,
Listing here on slight breezes, where
Over your radiant slumbers sugar cypress arms
Canopy my nodding vigil.

Invisible breath: guardian of our present
Steals through infant lips,
of a new old world,
Secretly to stir the leaves around.

Time is mostly itself, when passing.

I still believe

just thinking about your dream(s), and how our dreams are often more than just vivid reminders of who and why we are.

Contained in those thoughts then was this image of you sleeping.

Breathing softly as you do, with that smile of yours looking up at me,
I was reminded of late August sunsets and candle light.

Which is why I stiil believe for every drop of rain that falls upon the road, a flower grows. Still, believing that somewhere in the darkest night, a candle will be glowing.

I still believe;

That for everyone who has gone astray, someone will come along to show them the way. Still believing above a storm the smallest prayer can still be heard.

Even a prayer spoken in your sleep.

The Book of Love is........

The book of love is long and boring.
No one can lift the damn thing,

It's full of charts and facts and figures
and instructions for dancing,
But I love it when you read it to me,
For you can read me anything.

The book of love has music in it,
In fact that's where music comes from.

Some of it is just transcendental,
Some of it is just really dumb,
But I love it when you sing to me
And you You can sing me anything

The book of love is long and boring
And written very long ago.
It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes
And things we're all too young to know

But I love it anyway.

Always look up

On the way down,

I saw you and you saved me from myself
and I wont forget the way you loved me.
On the way down,
I almost fell through but I held on to you.

On the way down is when I loved you the most!

A smile from me today...and always ~

"Did you know...that when you walk past a flower,
whether it be in somebody's garden or on a vacant hillside,
the flower will always smile at you.

The most polite way to respond,
I've been told,
is to cheerfully return the smile."

When "she" spoke she said:

From where I am sitting you seem to have it(?) together.
Within you then, I see that you are intelligent and sensitive, strong and secure.
A bright star I imagine.
All good reasons for me to approach you.

To me, you appear open, free to explore and learn.
As for me, the more you want to know the deeper inside I will let you explore.

If it's passion you seek, you are looking in the right direction.
I know the value of a strong bond.
I understand the components of friendship and trust.
I know that true intensity, can be found, even in the quietest of moments!

In the between, I like to kiss, drink wine, watch the moon, run into waves, swing,
slide, teeter-totter, drive, ride, hide under blankets, eat, sleep, make love.... and sing of key.

Just your more basic of human desires and so much more too!

Her

Johanna

Do you miss me still?

Or has the screaming into the night,
Passed with the pain
Of my leaving?

On the subway yesterday,
A woman said
That the twilight
Of our love

Interrupts your sleep
Nevertheless.

I miss you too!

A thought for your pain

Afterwards:

The world is turning,
The fires burning,
And there was God!

Not standing by,
Though by your side,
The Creator waits for you.

Falling back in time

I am not the mountain, though the mountain is me:

You will never therefore know me;
Until you reached my peak
Stood upon my ridgeline
Traveled the unmarked path of my crags
Waded the depths of my rivers
Crossed my phantom bridges
Seen what I have witnessed
Endured the storms that batter me still
Love how I have loved
Give as I have taken
Endured the depths of my passions

I am the mountain, though the mountain is not me:

You will not know who I am;
By my written words
But by my unspoken whispers
The language of my rocky embrace
Without the tenderness of my indomitable summit

For just like all mountains before me;
I have dreams, and my dreams contain wishes
My wishes have ambition, and my ambitions have desires
Within my desires, there are often emotions
Contained in my emotions are fury, yet I am not furious.

I am therefore the hidden lava below the snow cap,
Do you know where to find me?
Do you dare to meet me?
Do you care to complete me?

Yes, I have made mistakes in my life,
As have some others mountains
But I am not in competition with them.

I am not the mountain of your fears,
All of what I have done, where I have been
And the choices I have made
Make me who I am today,
The Mountain, who became a Man!

Do you still care to hear me?
Do you know where to be near me?
Are you ready to find out?

Losing anothers Love

One of the fundamental aspects of loving is the willingness to unite deeply with another person. It is natural that we should desire to be a deep and integral part of those we love. We believe that we can only bring them happiness if we can know them mind, body and soul.

There is an inherent danger in this when we become so thoroughly involved with another that we lose ourselves. In so doing, we become less to everyone who loves us. For us to totally merge our identity with another is to deny our past and all that makes us who we are. A loving relationship works better as a voluntary coming together of two separate individuals. Through their dedication and respect for each other, they create a new entity, which is neither one of them, but part of both- their relationship.

New relationships are always fragile; for those that survive seem either to age gracefully or end up simply aging. The difference it seems is in the two people, who have maintained their personal integrity and who have also been willing to merge their efforts and uniqueness into shaping their love, towards another independent being.

We will find it necessary to relinquish something of ourselves with each new relationship, but it is wise to be forever cautious not to totally lose ourselves in the process. For those who love us, learned to love us as individuals, not as part their greater whole, but separate unto ourselves, and whole from within.

A new Season of Love

If love were a season,
It would begin in the Spring; warm and tender.

As the gentle rains fell, love like a flower
Would grow, reaching ever higher
For the warming Sun.

Just as if love were any season,
Before we knew it
The bright hot sun of the summer
Would scorch our love.

Forcing us to seek the shelter
Of each others protective embrace.

If love were any other season,
The chill of our words
Would become the ice
on the ponds that dot our hearts.

Waiting,
Waiting still,
For the season to change
Us back into the succulent splendor
That was our spring time beginning!

Asia: Part 3

You see, Asia never left me that day, nor for the great many seemingly wonderful days that followed; each in its own way filled with endlessly amazing, exasperating and enriching moments!

Even now I can recall the look in her eyes when we went about the peninsula and surrounding islands together. The honestly beautiful way she took in every sight and sound was and still is the barometer that I now use to gauge the interest of every woman who has come into my life since asking her to leave. Admittedly, even I learned something about this place I had called home since as long as I have memories, such was the wonder of this woman and her unique way of seeing everything as it truly is and not as it may appear to others. Spending all that time with Asia was indeed a wonderful, yet completely aggravating experience.

For with each new way that her smile warmed my heart, there was still no way to get around her combustible temper, nor the one true barrier that kept us physically separated during that summer and for the many years that passed after. No, it’s not that the longing wasn’t there between us, for often when she would steal into my room at night, feigning some imaged noise or fear, after she would drift back asleep beside me, I would be painfully awake wondering about my long ago made pledge.

It would seem that Asia had never been with a man before. Never had she known the fevered embrace of unbridled passion and its constant companion, lustful intentions. Sure, I bet there were those awkward stolen kisses by the school yard fence, maybe even a long slow dance against a grinding hip on the dance floor of her High School prom, but for the most part, the ham fisted fear her dad had placed into the neighborhood boys was sufficient to keep her untouched by any mans undoing. Until me(?). Wanting her, sometimes even seeing the need within her, always propelled me to complete the triangle of our love, yet no matter how hard she tried, I always stood by the hardest promise I ever kept. There she would be, curled up on the coach when I got home from the day, asking with those green eyes if tonight would be the night?

Trying on every bit of clothing left in my home by previous lovers, or some nights, wearing no clothing at all, and yet never did I fall into that temptation. For even if you peeled away all the swashbuckling exploits of my life, unearthed and reassembled the burned up letters, poems and napkin sized love notes of my youth, one thing would still stand glaringly abstract in all of my conquests, never had I, nor would I, touch caress, or even gently fondle the daughter of a man without his permission. Odd you may say, for what father does give his permission? None to my knowledge, but just as each crime has its own code of punishment, so then does each criminal have his or her own area of vulnerbility. For me then, no matter the promised booty, nor how loud or ever more succulently the sirens call, anything still unspoiled by the hand of another man, passes by me as if it were the daughter of a man I liked.

As to Asia and those Sunday gatherings, well that particular summer eventually ended and she had to return home for a time. Seems her visa was indeed tied to the employment contract she never actually fulfilled. Consequently, between us passed many more long hot and lonely summers until she was able to return to the man who taught her how to be a woman without ever forgetting the he was indeed, a man. These days, Asia runs a shop up the beach from where I found her, not really making a living, but living beyond just enough to get by. As to us and this dance we still do, well some things never actually change. For within me, there has been many a moment and embrace with another, yet between us, the depth of our intimacy will continue to grow, but the longing, well, it still lingers.

Asia: Part 2

Yet as with any new revelation, often then appears the reflected realityof the moment, now that we had met, and such a meeting it was, how are we to proceed? For already, I sensed the touch of overwhelming emotional beginnings unfold.

Walking back with her up to the parking lot, it was hard to understand what she was saying.
Not that she didn’t speak the same language as I did, but the way she punctuated each syllable, and the husk of her deep throated dialect was like nothing I had ever heard before. Words from her were like shouts in a gale, and I strained to hear each one completely.

I laughed when she said her name, this caused her to turn around and face me, and for the first time, I completely saw her. Such a one as this I thought, who could have known the power within a woman could be so strong and able? Laugh she said. Am I someone in whom you find humor? Now these words I perceived more than heard, and with my reeling backward, off she ambled on ahead. Hmn, guess I had better wait until she’s dry before I try any more humor I thought? Reaching the paved area, Asia stops again and waits for me to step up to where she now stands, before she begins to actually speak to me in a voice that would be my undoing.

Edward she says, which vehicle be yours? Blinking I guess, I am caught off guard by the clarity and tone of her words. What happened to the accented and crashing syllables, the indecipherable outbursts of some foreign dialect? She was a wonder that Asia, and I of course was absolutely blinded by beauty of it all. Showing her the way to the truck, I began to steal glances over at her. Always it seemed that when I looked her way, there was her gaze, looking back intently at me, searching my face for some answer, as if to say that all the answers were already written there for her alone to see.

Who was this woman I wondered, and why is it that I’ve discovered her in the here and now of this new season of my life?All my real questions would go unanswered to this day, for after I let her into the truck and turned the heat on, taking care to more tightly wrap the blanket completely around her, I wondered aloud if there was anything else I could do for her, and that was when all the answers to my seemingly unspoken questions came out in a tumble. Yesterday it seemed Asia had come out onto the Cape Cod peninsula from the airport up in Boston. A twelve hour flight from Glasgow, Scotland had found her in a strange place, without any desire to stay and no real way to return until her posting here was completed.

Seeking then only to settle into her summer job as a nanny for one of the families over in the Mc Mansion marina across the bay, she happened to mention her feelings to another staff member who thought a few drinks and a stroll along the break water would be just the thing to take her mind off her summer away from home, and the loneliness that can bring.Perhaps it was the lack of food or just the loss of time references, but to the best of her ability to recall the events of that first night, she was sitting in the dunes and looking across the water at her island home so far away, drinking chilled wine and talking with her new friend about all the things they missed about their homes, and the next thing she could readily remember was waking to the sound of the mornings gulls dropping their clam breakfast out onto the parking lot were we now sat.

Asking her then why she was in the river channel was truly not the question, for that she had no real answers anyway. Somehow she thought she had crossed the marsh on her way into the dunes and that was the way she could see to get back across. As for the missing friend, she wasn’t sure why she had left her out there alone like that, but if her earlier attitude with me was any indication; my thoughts began drifting to the lifted spirits of a foul mouth and a right surly attitude, though I digress from the topic at hand.

Asia. A story told in 3 parts

Another Sunday afternoon beckons and I could tell by the number of cars strewn across the yard, this was going to be a good party indeed.Admittedly, when it came to these Sunday gatherings, the fewer those in attendance the better, though on this Sunday I was actually looking forward to the distraction a greater number would bring to my dilemma.

Walking as I would into the foyer, I sensed more than saw her entering the den from off the horizon deck. Seems that everyone knows why she’s here now. Here even more than should have been necessary they say, and still she comes. I give a nod at her wave and begin to say my hellos when I realize that her intent is to come up behind me this morning for our now ritual kiss. Smiling at the host, I recognize perhaps I should begin my telling from the actual beginning.

Seems to me like a whole month of Sundays has gone past since that one Sunday dawned into my life. As it was always, I began my morning walk along the rivers edge just this side of the bay. Usually it would be just the egrets and I, maybe a tern or two, here in Hyannis harbor, but almost always at this time of the day no other human traffic. Funny then how I found her, expecting to see just the waves as the river swelled from the inrushing tide, and instead there she was, up to her knees in the silt having just been caught out of the marshes edge by the swift currents surrounding her.

To be honest, it was hard to tell if she really needed my help at all, what with the way her eyes burned with the determination to keep her balance and momentum. I almost stepped back behind the reeds just to see if she could make it alone, but needless to say, I did wade out to where she was potentially planted just in case.Asia was her name, island born Irish by birth, completely continental by choice. All eyes, with massive curls and abundant freckles, of those spots I would wonder often if they were a sign of the animal within or just a series of nano sized stop signs for those us without!

Of course she thanked me, but it wasn’t like I had a lot to do with it. I offered to give her my blanket from the beach truck, never thinking to ask her how she came to be out in the flats as if clamming without any gear. No matter I guessed, a good deed done and I was actually happy for the company.I was all about her presence that day, for her being with me revealed how actually alone I had become out here on the mouth of this river, how these lonely walks to clear my thoughts of one had completely landed me right in the middle of another.

Visions of You

Last night in my dreams,
The wind came to see me.

Thinking as I do about you,
Wondering maybe more than I should,
He showed me some of the reasons whyYou are, as you appear to me!

As I rose up in his arms,
He took me into your valley
and allowed me to tickle you with a gentle breeze,
as you smiled sweetly.
After, I drifted passsed you and back into the sky,
I could see your days unfolded before you, and I just had to sigh!

You, unlike the wind,
are often tufted and turned by the whims and needs of others.
Pulled and prodded this way and that
for the sake of someone else’s pleasure..........sorry baby.

This day, Tomorrow
Everyday, that you know of me,
Please think of my as a Sunny little Island then.

A place of your calm and resting breezes,
Not another person who needs your attention,
But a one who's attention you already have.

Which is my future within you?

People have laughed at me several times;
they say I'm being ridiculous, that this is just too strange...

but would it be much better for you my dear
if I never told you that I care for you?

Truly, the moment my feet landed on the Lord's ground,
it opened my mind to see within these complicated lives
that swirled aound me I knew right then
of the catastrophes within my own life...
together with its mysteries, happiness and joy!

My life, though full as it was with another’s
miseries, agonies, tortured longing and sorrow,
had love but then, when You came into my life
I knew then that nature had indeed smiled upon me
and these black clouds of another gave way to joyful skies.

Knowing then, that you would be a part of me
for your longing never left my puzzled mind.
Your heartbeats, never stopped beating upon within my chest,
even though I no longer held you close.

In the distance that you’ve allowed to form between us…..
I’ve come to know you, and your heart well.
I still recall that day we looked at each other's eyes
often, remembrances which became sweeter as they last
without becoming bitter, and bitter as we parted

never to be back in each other arms again is the question
Yet, even if this will never happen,
neither will it be erased from my memory...
For you, that smile of yours, and your love within....
these things I’ll never be tired of remembering....

You.................

You,
beloved,
who were lost before the beginning, who never came,
I do not know which sounds might be precious to you.

No longer do I try to recognize you, when, as a surging wave, something is about to manifest.
All the huge images in me, the deeply-sensed far-away landscapes, cities and towers and bridges and un-suspected turns of the path, the powerful life of landsonce filled with the presence of gods: all rise with you to find clear meaning in me, your, forever, elusive one.

You, who are all the gardens I've ever looked upon, full of promise. An open windowin a country house—, and you almost stepped towards me, thoughtfully. Sidestreets I happened upon,—you had just passed through them, and sometimes, in the small shops of sellers, the mirrors were still dizzy with you and gave back, frightened, my too sudden form.—Who is to say if the same bird did not resound through us both yesterday, separate, in the evening?


Rilke(Paris, winter 1913 - 14)

A very Blessed.....................

.................and beautiful Good Morning to you SunShine!

No matter the yesterday(s), today is the day He promised to give to you, and within it you should indeed find immense peace and beauty......pleasure and serenity, not only around you, but coming from within you as well!

As you reach out and accept this blessing, can we look inward for just a moment my dear?
For all too often my beautiful one, someone is re-telling you that same lie from your youth, somehow, someway, you are guilty of doing, or feeling something that is not your right to do so.

Again I say into you though, this is just the mirage of another's love and not Love in the way it was intended, and as such, you need not believe it. Yes, often people will blame someone enough, and they will begin to believe the lie as their own personal truth.........is this you my love? For in being a woman, you have the inherent right to become emotional and to reach out to another via this emotionality.

Whereas for another to say that you do not have this right, is just another example of someone telling you who you need to be, and not someone accepting you as you are....Beautiful! Today, instead of feeling someone else's pain(s), look into the eyes of your own refelection and the many bright and alive ones that will be surrounding you this very day and see life. Life and love in its uncorrupted state and smile, for this is the kind of love that you need.

A Love that does not punish, nor place blame, or even attempt to affix guilt upon another for their honest attempt to be themselves.You are beauty and peace my friend, cover yourself with this truth and reject anything that does not accept and exalt the inherent beauty of who and what you are:Child, Woman, Mother, Friend, Lover, Artisan and Love!!!A one who believes their own truth, not someone else's lies.

Visions of our tomorrow:

Uptown, people still wander about,
a white face stops to peer down the alley way of our lives and turns away.
Is it the wildness of our embrace, or is it the wonder of how we readily face all that we are,
or have we already become his nightmare of tomorrow?

Later, I sleep and crazily dream.
A dark end of summer kind of dream,
of the moon, and the liquid passion in your eyes.

Softly, I kiss your lips and tremble,
is that your blood or mine I taste?

Not that it matters,
for all that you'll become,
I already am.

Coming home under the full Moon

As where I was, faded behind me
The moon appeared
Fully exposed on my horizon.

Looking up into the face
Of all that was to become,

I remembered all the things
Still to be undone.

Is the moon above you now?
Smiling its earth shattering
Love into you face?

Or are you still trying to
Unfurl his crippling embrace?

The moon
Not unlike my other
Lover the wind,
Always reminds me of you.

Even those places
Within you,
That are still untrue.

Yet,

As I passed onto my own valley floor,
The moon dropped behind
The rock wall of my soon to be,
goodnight.

The Beauty of Life..........................

....................is often obscured through the prism of time.

When we have very little time, life can seem hazy and unfocused.

Whereas when we have abundant amounts of time, oh how long the horizon has become!

Time, like love requires patience and consideration.

Therefore, time has always been my friend.

We niether argue, mislead or dissapoint one another.

Nor does it hold itself out to be something that it's not.
I like that about time.

It is what it is, and thats all.

Wouldn't it be great if we were all like that too?

Visiting the attic, I discovered this:

Shorts(stories)
can enrich your
understanding
and heighten
your global
experiences



Often I use short vocal expressions to broaden the awareness of the person whom I am attempting to engage and subsequently subdue, though I often use it as a devise to paint images within their body and mind, my goal is just to enlighten and release.

Sometimes, it's so much a part of my sense of expression and placement, I can forget about the hearer and leave them entranced(encased) within the montage I am using for the purpose of illustration.................................

Maybe, some day, I can paint you into a perpetual day break, a collage of new and increasing wonderful beginnings?



In the between of it all; thanks for the look and remember, reach out beyond your borders often, some of us are actually quite nice too!

Celebrating our differences

Each of us brings to our life a unique temperament and style. This is our special gift to the world.
How monotonous it would be if we all expressed ourselves in readily predictable ways. Differences in ourselves, is the spice of human behavior that makes us so fascinating to each other. Some of us charge boldly through life taking risks; others choose to play it very safe.

Some of us are eager for social interactions; others are more satisfied being alone. Some are spontaneous; others are planned. Some approach each day with gusto; others are cautious. Some are perfectionists; others are less exacting with thier outcomes.

In love then, we need to become acutely aware of these differences, and be sincerely careful not to force our values upon those who we choose to love, within whom we see, different behaviors. Our loving another should always makes room for everyone.As long as we remain open to differences, we are constantly enriched. There are as many approaches to life as there are various peoples in this world of ours. The more of these uniqulely different ways we can come to understand and accept, the more full, complete, enriching, and loving our love thus becomes.

The French say, "Vive la difference." Love echoes that phrase boldy! Love and Patience.

Love from the Heartland

A Friend………..

Accepts you as you are
Believes in You
Calls just to say Hi
Doesn’t give up on you

Envisions the whole of you
Forgives your mistakes
Gives unconditionally
Helps you willingly

Invites you over
Just to be with you
Keeps you close at heart
Loves you for who you are
Makes a difference in your life

Never judges you
Offer you real support
Picks you up (emotionally too)
Quiets your fears
Raises your spirits

Says nice things about you
Tells you the truth when you need to hear it most
Understands you
Values you

Walks beside you
X-plains things you didn’t understand
Yells when you won’t listen
Zaps you back to reality

The Wind and I

Last night in my dreams, The wind came to see me.
Thinking as I do about you, Wondering maybe more than I should,
He showed me some of the reasons why You are as you appear to me!

As I rose up in his arms,
He took me into your valley and allowed me to tickle you with a gentle breeze,
and you what, you smiled sweetly, I almost wept openly.

After I drifted past you and back into the sky,
I could see your days unfolded before you, and I just had to sigh!

You, unlike the wind, are often tufted and turned by the whims and needs of others.
Pulled and prodded this way and that for the sake of someone else’s pleasure..........
sorry for this, truly I am baby.

This day then, tomorrow even, and every new day that you know of me,
Please think of my as a Sunny little Island waiting just for you.
A place of your calm and resting breezes, not another person who needs your attention,
But a one who's attention you already have.

Midnight: Part 2

It’s strange, how things can point to something just beyond your Vision, for then it happened. Something or someone touched me, and as I turned to see who or what is was, the club was again being raided, setting off a series of events that would finally alter and then change my outlook on life, love, the lust of power and vanity that sprung from the monies made round every midnight!

Perhaps this story started long before this night; not that it made any difference to the people with whom I interacted then. All they knew and needed to know was when I was to be on that street and in that club. It’s obvious, even to me now, how that regularity led to very this problem unfolding in front of us that new day.

Where were we all to run? How many of us would escape, and at what cost, and to whom? In the next moment, all that I had laid out long ago would now work to my benefit or my detriment. I had already discussed with Pamelynne what to do when the unthinkable happened and we had to go separately into the night, whom to call and what not to say.

So her safety wasn’t my issue right then. Making it out to the Amtrak zone was my only chance of escape; there the local cops had no jurisdiction. Only if they chased you onto the platform could they follow, but one small fence and a six-lane toll way separated me from my freedom and that was the moment I faced. Many days later, someone asked me if I ever looked back to be sure she was okay, if I had seen what happened to her in those fateful moments round that midnight. But if I remember anything about those fading moments, it would only be that I was thinking about the next time midnight would come back around for me.

Midnight (in two parts)

One of the best things about midnight is that it comes every night.
No matter where you are, or what you’re doing, midnight she always appears on time, ready to exercise her right to be needed, a new day coming just after her arrival!

This though, was not to be a midnight that would soon be easily forgotten, nor the events absolutely forgiven. Turning the corner to the club with Pamelynne, I could feel the energy in the air. This was always the pulse I hoped to feel when I got to work, but something about this night seemed a little out of place, a little more electric than usual.

Looking around, I saw nothing really out of the ordinary. There was Gi Gi as always, over at the Slice Bodega, looking like his toupee was on straight tonight, a cop drinking his coffee under the canopy by the alley and the flower girl had her cart down by the corner, all things seemed just the same as every midnight.

There was not an unusual number people milling around, nor was anything visibly different about the people; college kids and townies. Suburban divas and working girls, all looking to be seen, hoping to be cool, needing to be different. There was nothing new that I could see with my outward senses, but something seemed different. Something seemed eerily out place there, like a movie seen before, but not fully remembered. Walking up to the spot, I hung back, as was my usual, waiting for Pamelynne and Anthony, one of the doorman, to have their moment together.

It was odd even to me, how after all these midnights, they still played that game of theirs. She waits by the hydrant until he sees her and waves her to the front of the queue, he with his head down, she with a soft kiss on his cheek. Was she calming him, the way she always did me? Or was it he who calmed her? No matter really; the dance was always the same between them, and I always figured Anthony to be gay anyway. No, not just because of the way he always acquiesced to my needs, but in my opinion he was just too damn beautiful to be a straight man!

Watching them and sizing up the nights’ crowd, I just knew that something was going to happen; I just could not shake my uneasiness. “Maybe I should pass? Do I really need this night to make my week?” Before I could even finish that thought she was moving again, Pamelynne I mean. Being led into the club by her doorman, holding his hand, like she would somehow fall if he were to let it go, looking over at me as if I weren’t the one who had taught them both this midnight dance!

Now, it was my turn. Walking up the doormen’s’ rope as if its’ meaning did not exist for me, seeing, but not realizing, that there were people waiting to go where I needed to be, I followed her inside. Gesturing to Anthony as if to say something but having my own game to play with him, I entered the door, waiting, as always, for him to stop me; yet this time, he did not.To be continued.....................................................

Is it raining Where you are?

Choosing and then
Allowing yourselfTo be chosen
Still affords me
A choice

For the gift that I seek to give
Is that gift in
Which you desire most
To be given

Yet the eagerness
Of your existence
Is still the abbreviated
Longings of your heart

The slender unfolding
Of your love then
Will forever
Shatter

My illusions
About why
Any other man
Would not love you!

What if................

..............eyes wide open, is still not enough!

Some days, I do not actually write. Not because there are not things, places, or people to write about, mainly my inability to get it moving stems from net being able to focus.

Wanting to write, desiring to express myself is only part of my process around turning abstractions into words. More often, I am just breathing and that act of catching one breath becomes a word that supports a sentence, which then becomes a meditation en route to a story.

Sometimes, people within my sensory areas can create a ripple that I can use as a propellant, though mostly it is through their subsurface pain and the things that I can discern they are hiding from that makes the window into a story open wide for me. Even in the vacuum of a total stranger, a story is often revealed to me by the placement of their hands on a table, or hidden under the flickering of their eyes, maybe even contained within the voice in which they address a small child.

To follow and explore these stories are of great value to me, though they often cost more than the completed story is worth, for the pain I must wade through to get the chance to see the boundaries of this new and exciting place, is never as easily forgotten as I would like. Oddly enough, each moving body part contains are story.

This I discovered when I grew old enough to warrant a hand shake from others, seems each new person who I came in contact with, revealed to me something about themselves whenever we touched. Some of those early stories were the best if not for the intense rush of revelation that washed over me, some where so diabolically beautiful it made me weep immediately, others were just the vaporish endeavors of the uncared for among us, but each was as sweet as the fall rain, in its intensity, and cleansing side effects.

In trusting ourselves, We indeed find Love.

Too often, I am met with skepticism because of my very positive and overtly passionate approach to Love and trusting. Because of this, I have learned to ignore the notion from others, that I am either foolish or naïve because of my belief that all things are possible to those who choose to believe in them.

Often, even I am truly baffled by how agitated some people get when I explain my belief that love unites and secures as nothing else can; that without it, trust and forgiveness are impossible to maintain. For me, it doesn't seem that this is such an outrageous proposition, though; it does seem to bring out the foolishness in other people!

When we cease trusting, negative forces take over. Good intentions go unappreciated within a mind crowded with doubt and suspicion. Everyday expressions of love are suspected of having hidden meanings. Misunderstood behaviors, give rise to monumental traumas! We worry that we will be deceived if we trust too much, Yet, we not consider the consequences of not trusting enough.

Therefore, we need to enhance the love that we seek from others.
In all the world there is not a single people exactly like any of us.
Everything that we produce is authentically ours. There will always be things we don't understand about ourselves as there are things we don't like about ourselves. Despite this fact though, there is no true reason not to love ourselves.

There is a definite dignity in our uniqueness. Our fantasies, dreams, hopes, fears, behaviors, abilities all belong only to us. They are what make us who we are and open the doors to what we can become. It is indeed true that in our lifetime we may never really know ourselves in any true sense of completeness, but it is our gift to God to never stop trying to work toward this goal, for our search for love can only be enhanced through our realization of self.

Being everything that you are is enough for another to love you.
Being ourselves in a world where most people want to remake us into their fantasy of how we should be, will always be our greatest hurdle in this life. Though, even if the disapproval of others is a powerful deterrent, it is hardly a strong enough reason to be less than who we truly are. If we want to be happy, to be loved, to be understood and accepted, sooner or later we will have to assert our right to be ourselves. By being ourselves, we are saying to others that we are indeed lovable, for we first, learned to love ourselves.

Mondays Musings

Within the breath of a flower
I can often see the essence of its beauty
Even as my eyes gently close around
The impossibility of its embrace

Just outside of my longing then
Are the reality and the wonders within
Each contained under the forested
Canopy of my life outside the
Many distant cities

Love and Patience

Nothing nurtures love more than patience.
It is that quality that allows us to wait, to be long suffering, to understand, to hope.

It sometimes seems that this is all but forgotten in a world that is forever on fast forward.
Patience denotes self-composure and contemplation in the face of disappointments and failures.

Nevertheless, we want action, we want solutions, we want answers. And we want them at once. This philosophy has been responsible for a great many hasty judgments in our past, which have caused a great deal of unnecessary pain and despair to ourselves, and those we should have loved.

In love, the most vital answers take time for discovery, time that is sustained by hope and the gentle absence of pressures. Many of our problems are only stalking shadows that often disappear in the light of patience. People who love well, and love long, have learned to accept the times of change, challenge, and discomfort, along with the moments of sublime joy, beauty and grace.

The greatest reward of patience is a love that endures.

A whisper or a brick....................

.........…the choice is yours.

A young and successful executive was traveling down a quiet neighborhood street going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. Though he was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something, as his car passed sped through, no children appeared.

Instead, a brick smashed into the Jag's side door!
He slammed on the brakes and backed the Jag up to the spot where the brick had been thrown. The angry driver then jumped out of the car, and grabbing the nearest kid to be found, he pushed him up against a parked car shouting, "What was that all about, what the heck are you doing? That's a new car and that brick you threw is going to cost me a lot of money. Why did you do that?"

The young boy was apologetic. "Please mister, please, I'm sorry......I didn't know what else to do. I threw the brick because no one else would stop." With tears dripping down his face and off his chin, the youth pointed to a spot just around a parked car. "It's my brother. He rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up." Now sobbing, the boy then asked the stunned executive, "Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He's hurt and he's too heavy for me."Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Turning toward the boys brother, he lifted the handicapped brother back into the wheelchair, then took out his handkerchief and wiped at the fresh scrapes and cuts the child suffered in the fall.

Too shook up for words, the man simply watched the boy push his wheelchair-bound brother down the sidewalk toward home. It was a long, slow walk back to the Jaguar. Though the damage was very noticeable, the man never repaired the dented side door.He kept that dent to remind him of this message: We should never go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick to get our attention. Surely God whispers to our souls and speaks into our hearts, but sometimes, when we don't have time to listen, He will allow another to throw a brick at us too!Listen to the whisper.... Or wait for the brick?

Even you know the answer to that question!

What if, Paralysis and Fear are not your Friends?

Have you had good ideas and insights, and never acted upon them?
Have you started to support another person and then faded out of the picturewhen they had success? Have you mustered the courage to start something but never finished it because of someone else’s failure(s)?

Our soul often sparks us with the right guidance, love and power to do something. In that moment of inspiration, it sure feels good, right and true. BUT so often, that clarity and energy doesn't last. We don't follow through. We don't bridge our soul's inspirational idea into tangible formation(s) of our ideas. Is it that we lack commitment?

If we don't act on an insight, an opportunity is lost. And our souls don't nag. They may beckon to us indifferent ways but they don't repeat the same messageover and over until we get it. When we get a sense of what calls us forward, we need to commit to consciously do something. When do we do this? Tomorrow, next week, after this project is completed, later ... all never come.

Though we may honor our commitments to others, we often weasel out on honoring our commitments to ourselves. So next time a message feels right, honor it and yourself.
The more we act on the guidance that comes to us, the more it will come.
Your spirit is speaking to you for a reason.

Trust this process and your inner voice to live more abundantly!

Todays story is called

Once when I was still a Super Hero, I remember finding a wounded kitten under an abandoned building. Strange it seemed, I had never in all my years of crime inspiring adventures ever found a wounded kitten before.

At first, I was unsure what to do. What with my black cape and all, the Kat hair and dander was surely going to make a mess of my one clean outfit. Stealing myself against the consequences of another nasal infection, up into my arms the kitten was cradled and both she and I sleeked into the dark safety of my lair.

Hmn I thought, what's a lair without a kat to roam around within it?
Thus began the adventures of Black Man and the Raven Haired Kat!

Seems even the strangest couplings can produce wonderful results. After that kat and I became like one, all of our individual troubles just seemed to fade into the distance. Here with me, she had the safety of finally belonging without the pain or the suffering, and yet, still she was free to be herself. Whereas for me, not only did my sinus infections go away completely, but now the lair was clean on a regular basis(she was a bit bossy, that kat!).

So now, when the day has finally sunk beyond the steel curtain of this dirty city. Look behind you when you hear that old familiar sound, for the soft rustling of the leaves is often the last note you'll remember, before Black Man and the Raven haired Kittie start their conquest upon those who only seek to dismember You!

What if I was wrong...........

......................would it change anything?

I used to try to set aside
Some time for being lonely
I would simply close my eyes
and sing my own song
and it's almost like I'm home

Loving in a place where only I belong
Do you believe in loneliness
I used to believe that you did
for underneath those eyes always you hid

Before this day I never feared the night
darkness closing in allowed me to live freely within
Do you believe in loneliness?
I did!

It was a great weekend after all:

Well I must admit that I was actually worried about my developing friendship with another, but it looks like things may just work for the best after all!
In the between think about this as the next improbale thought,I am always a phone call away. For the rest of you vouyers who do not know my # I am really very happy with the response(s)!

Though it is true that no one knew that I was capable of disliking another person, I appreciate the feedback anyway. Maybe in the future I will omit the names( someone thought it was them, sorry! ), or offer my thoughts in a more broad based way.

Who knows though, these are my thoughts, and I will indeed express them as best I can, but I will be more sensitive as to who I give the address to in the future.
Over in the bay area :) , please!

Anyhoo, the new week is here and I have no lunch dates, but that's okay.
Maybe I need to spend some quality time with my own thoughts and not the thoughts of somebody else? Shame really, I was so looking forward to learning more about her!

Whatever happens though, everyone please enjoy your time with whomever you choose and I will finish the previously story next week.
Even if I don't let you read it :)

I know..........................

Okay

Truly, the perfect man is not Gay!

The perfect man is gentle
Never cruel and never mean
He has a beautiful smile
And keeps his face so clean.

The perfect man loves children
And will raise them by your side
He will be a good father
And a good husband to his bride.

The perfect man loves cooking
Cleaning and vacuuming too

He'll do anything in his power
To convey his love to you.

The perfect man is sweet
Writing poetry from your name
He's a best friend to your motherand kisses away your pain.

He will never make you cry
or batter you in any way

To hell with this stupid poem:
The perfect man doesn't have to be gay.
The perfect man is indeed any man who desires to be that way!

When you were a baby.......................

....................................................... did you ever think that being who you would become as something to be thought of as stressful to others?

Recently I wrote a number of things about myself that I could never easily explain to others. Things that when read by their intended audience was very revealing of the who and what I actually am. Sing along if you know the words:

Yesterday I bit myself.

Not that I haven't done that before, it's just that this time I thought of the words that often leak form my mouth. How sometimes those words penetrate the person hearing them and causing unintended consequences. Did you know that words are everything to me?

Often when I have spoken in the past, the thoughts and feelings of others are upset or awakened. Revealed or embraced. Uplifted or crushed.I was thinking within this dream about someone else and I remembered that I heard the sound of glass breaking around them as well.

Strange this sound, it reminded me of a moment in time when I lived in Boston and Pamelynne and I were lovers. She was so open and beautifully eager then. I used to sneak her in dance clubs and we would drink and slow dance the night away. Always when the music stopped, she would ask me questions about who we had met, and why.

Something about the sound of that glass breaking reminded me about you. No not you, her over on the left! How you're always trying to balance your strength and power against mine. yielding to my essence and then fleeing the embrace and comfort of my words when I am not there to cloak you in my touch.

Writing about this disconnect that I often sense in us opened the door to my longings for another that I had recently forgotten about. Yes, there is a point to all of this but why bother revealing now? For right now, my heart is open..................not needing anything but to give as it wills.

Patience and Love

Nature offers us an infinite variety of plants that fascinate and delight us. We know that it would be ludicrous for us, mere humans to pass judgment on them. We don't harass them to reveal a new bud or leaf when we think they should. Neither do we compare them with other plants in the same garden that we feel are doing so much better under our care and careful concern.

We allow them to do what is natural for them, to grow and flower at their own pace.It seems logical then, when we think about it, that the people we love should be offered the same consideration, especially since we cannot be fully aware of the struggles with which they are dealing. Even with the best of intentions, our impatience for them to "grow up" and "be sensible," implies that it's a simple matter to us.

The assumption being, that they can and should change at our behest, for why would we ask it, if it could not indeed be done. I have saved some of my healthiest plantings, because I learned a long time ago that if I want them to thrive I simply have to allow them to live according to their own inherent nature. Countless times I've given up on some, after having waited patiently for them to respond to my careful nurturing, only to discover, that one day when they, not I, were quite ready, they unfolded before my eyes. They were simply awaiting their time. Sometimes our best service to those we love is to simply stand by, be silent, be patient, be hopeful, be understanding, and wait, for their time.

When I saw her...............

..............I was reminded of water:

The greatest goodness is like water,
Water serves all,
yet never strives for itself.

Rippling, rolling, climbing and plunging
Water seeks only to flow along unimpeded
Feeding and replenishing life, while staying true to itself

Water though a tangible feature,
it is its intangible nature that keeps it alive!

Maybe the world rotates around the sun, but I revolve under the stars.............

Answers for today

Whereas you’ve yet to ask these questions:
The answer is I desire to be with people.
This is probably a need for social recognition, with the intent to influence those around me, while creating friendships and personable interactions. I believe that my core is based on a strong people orientation for I always seem to be meeting and/or enjoying the company of other people.

I do believe I have a good sense of humor, and I usually know when to lighten an awkward or difficult situation, how to amuse and entertain those around me with laughter (though this could be a shield), and I use light conversation to keep people focused on the positive, it is also helpful in identifying those who are not friendly by nature!I honestly feel very optimistic and this is usually considered favorably by those who happen to be around me. My perception is half full, more than seemingly empty. When asked, those who know me say that I do have a way of generating enthusiasm in others and myself, often involving many people who might not be inclined or initially motivated to get involved.

One of my great strengths is my ability to communicate and converse readily, of course with that in mind; I admit that I can talk too much! Whereas I think of myself as a natural communicator, this is often enhanced by my willingness to explore conversations about most any topics with whoever is present. The most common remark made about me is that I am a natural salesman, someone who listens attentively and mirrors back that which is spoken into me. I believe this why I am generally perceived as likeable and approachable, someone who is very sociable in my own assertive and straight forward style.

It is within this style that I seem to be more capable of showing empathy towards the needs and feelings of others, and this draws people to me. Often, even those who do not share my religious convictions, nor my desire for full disclosure, seem to be able to look beyond what they are afraid of within me, and seek to engage me anyway! I see myself as:Enthusiastic about activities and involvements. Somewhat diplomatic with almost every kind of person. I trust that I am a good citizen as well as socially poised and people oriented. I am morally inclined to do the right thing, without being presupposed to having a ready excuse when I fail and/or willingly do what’s wrong. I see myself as a friend, lover, confidant and soul mate!

Maybe not everyone likes me, but I do still try to learn to like everybody.

Sometimes

Sometimes, people come into our lives and our past experiences have either ill prepared us for there indomitable spirit, or worse, our past experiences have robbed us of the essential resources necessary to maintain our connection and sustain our growth with this new person.

Sometimes even, within the context of our very being, there exist a parallel world that seeks to connect and divide us neatly into little powerful copies of ourselves. Resource centers really, of what we will need up the road. Unfortunately, in our arrogance, or ignorance, we refuse to allow ourselves to be divided for the good, yet we are nevertheless divided.

Sometimes, I have had to say to someone who needs to hear it the least, sorry for this, but I am unable to continue with you, nor am I in a position to consider an alternative to removing you from my life.

Sometimes, this is because of who they want to be.
Sometimes, this is because of who they refuse to be.
Sometimes, this is because of who they chose to be with.
Sometimes, this is because of whom they have been with.
Sometimes, like this time right here, all I really have is the sense of a decision set in motion before my coming, because of my coming, that I can no longer undo alone.

Sometimes, like this time right here, all I really have is the vision of a beautiful tomorrow, denied, today.

Sometimes, like this time right here, all I really have is the need to care, seeking the vessel into which to pour out my continual ability to care, needing only to be cared for, and yet, seeing that not possibly coming into fruition!

Sometimes, like this time right here. all I really have is the thought for me, and for them: the best thing to do is smile! For Sometimes, just like each and every time before this one, the Wisconsin sun did indeed set beyond the plains of the unseen Dakotas, so why should today be any different.

I know, is there a question(s) contained in all of that? Honestly, I do not really know.Though I have a strong feeling I am about to find out!

Chewed

Chewed
Did you see that old dog
Or was it even a dog at all
Coming along and just
Seeing the bone exposed there
Feeling all that painI wondered about you

Has the dog of this life eaten you yet, or
Is it still grinding upon You ceaselessly within
The jaws of its despair

Maybe the thought of it all
Roils your flesh with the fear of
Its ability to pass you by

Nothing is something, Sometimes

Are you the bone
Or are those your
Jaws clenched so tightly
upon the marrow
Of this old life