Passage Way

I will forever and a day see further than then the prerogative of the throng;

For there is a current of ideas that carry me away & so I drift far from the river of tapered thoughts.

The hallways of my mind allow me passage into various avenues where one might seldom venture.

Countless fortunate opportunities lend themselves to my imaginings & become my dearest companions.

Once granted the venue to explore, an innovative avenue is always in obvious abundance.

Going to the earnest depths with passionate discoveries, I implore with the mundane to liberate the hold it has taken.

Seeking independence from the tediousness talks of nothingness, I take flight on the wings of delectable dreams.

And so I leave behind this realm into one of incomparable fascinations…..

Adieu.

Along The Path

Along the path of dewy grass

Neath reflections of the starry glass

Hence came he presently to greet

His aim of love to entreat

Elating eyes & heart may share

Such earnest script laid me bare

Opposite his silver speech I heighten

My benevolent replies to him enlighten

Various whispers bid me give creed

This singular occasion may eagerness succeed

Bestowing weight to such ardent embrace

Regard eyes lingering on my grace

Most urgently seeking with valor sincere

Lend credence to devotion notably dear

Captured lastly by cadence of heart

Times friends befall lovers nary depart

My Every Breath

You are the air I breathe

where my soul takes rest

there is none like You

none more lovely or blessed

perfect Father I adore You

will never cease to love

each day brings more longing

my heart with You above

with desire to draw nearer

may it grow ever strong

let me hear Your heartbeat

You are where I belong

Across The Blue

A message of libretto



Cast into the blue



Heart in a bottle



All to reach you

We Collide

You & I collide

making sense out of madness

producing light in the darkness.

We raise the standard

redefining reality of all prior sensibility

our love creating life in midst of drought.

Yielded

Stepping outside of myself one day
Ceasing my wanderings & my play

The rousing of wind drew me
Motioning that my spirit might see

Feeling music waft through the trees
Willed me stay on bended knees

Captivating harmony weaves & grows
Hearing that familiar sound I know

My heart’s melody answered the call
Stirring me to counter with all

Full to the depths of love
He whispered my name from above

Entire affection the only true choice
Needing & giving songs a voice

Spirit sounds start soft & low
Lyrics swell strong so sweetly grow

Seeing into the space of eternity
Knowing Him is no small possibility

Yielding all desire to roam
My heart at last found home

On that day myself I lost
Midst finding all at His cost

Low Smilage

A few weeks ago, I was out & about shopping. While waiting in line, at the register, I noticed a little boy. He was just standing there, waiting too. He turned around to look at me & I responded with a smile. He was at that age, where some little ones, don’t easily smile at strangers. Anyway, after about 5 seconds…he smiled back. It’s amazing how such a simple gesture can reach way down into your heart & affect you. He was cute, but when he smiled, he sparkled. I’m sure he had no idea, at such a tender age, that his smile was a gift to me. I wanted to say, “Hello,” but figured that I’d better not push it. Anyway, it just made me happy.

This leads me to a growing concern that I’ve had. People don’t say, “Hello,” or smile at strangers much on the street any more. I know this, because I walk a good 2 hours every day & have experienced it first hand. A few here & there will respond when you smile, nod or greet them, but so seldom, now it seems.
It’s like these stores & business that have double doors, but only ever have one of them unlocked. Why?? Are they conserving on the use of that one door. Will they trade off next week & lock the other one & have you walk through the one that was locked last week? Seriously…. it drives me crazy. It's absurd, I realize that. That is actually the point.
Why are people holding back from greeting one another? Must our hellos, smiles or head nods be conserved & kept all to ourselves? Are we going to run out? Maybe it’s just me, but there’s all this talk of renewable energy. I’m fairly confident that if we smile at the first person we pass on the street….we will still have plenty left for even the last person we see at the end of the day. In fact, I bet the more we use those gifts, the more we will have to give in the future. It's just a guess, really, but I think smiles produce after their own kind. If there is one thing that is free & renewable today, its love & respect for our fellow man. Not only that, but what we share will be returned….that should be how it works anyway.

The Heavenly Father desires that we be like little children. There are so many adult attitudes that should be decidedly more childish. There is a purity of heart in a child. It is unadulterated, unpolluted & undefiled by the jaded adult experiences. As adults, we cannot keep from having these experiences, but the key is how we process them & allow them to mold us & contribute to our attitudes & perspectives.

Can I mention Peter Pan here? I just really like him....what a splendid perspective. There is this person I know that reminds me of him. While being an intellectually mature adult & even having gone through plenty of difficulties, he manages to have retained a delightfully childlike quality. A person like that is all too rare, I think. Why can’t we turn around in the line at the store & simply smile at the person behind us, without them thinking we are strange. Why can’t we at least nod our heads as we pass one another on the sidewalk? I think we can & we should choose to acknowledge others as often as possible. Children are a gift, not because they are young. They bring to the world what it would desperately miss without them….an ability to give freely to others, out of a sincere heart. This needn't end with childhood.
Being like little children….sometimes only takes a smile.

To Be A Tree

When I was a child, I lived on a friend’s farm for a little while. Out in the side yard was the perfect climbing tree. It’s very feasible that I climbed it every day. I did so when I was happy & when I was not. Occasionally, I would climb up & give it a quick hug & then scamper right back down, before I had to go work in the garden or milk the cow or pick the eggs. This striking piece of nature was also the setting in which I often chose to do my homework or to read many a grand book. Yes, you heard me right. Also, many times, I would take just my thoughts up into that dear old tree & spend many hours sorting them all out…or trying to. I think it’s likely that I had too many thoughts at my age then. Anyway….I had this sense that the tree could handle me & my burdens…that it could somehow just sit with me & understand. I don’t know. I mean, I’m not as crazy as Pocahontas….I didn’t seek my spiritual wisdom from the tree!

So, trees. I’ve always had a sort of fondness for them. When you think of all that they add to our lives…wow. Just try to visualize life without them. Some of these are destined to grow up & become magnificent things like sea faring vessels & some…well….just toilet tissue (sorry…tmi). At any rate, they are valuable in countless ways & they so very beautifully adorn our planet. Even though they are cut down for mostly reasonable uses, it is still kind of miserable to see nothing but the stumps sitting there after. And I guess I feel a twinge of regret when, I come across one of those trucks, hauling them from one state to the next. They all just lay there heaped up on one another….& where they once twisted their branches to the sun, now just lay there….lifeless.

Let me assign these trees some individuality for a little while, let me bring them to life, if you will, & see what they might think, of the plans we chose for them.

A tree stands by the river bank, roots profoundly seeded into the rich, moist soil. It spends its days worshiping the sun, feeling the breeze waft through its handsomely colored leaves. Every day, it basks in the sounds of the rippling water, the singing of the birds that nest there & the nighttime cadence of the cricket’s call. Perhaps this one, even has a small amusing girl who gives it a hug every now & then.


Now imagine with me, that one day, it gets unexpectedly cut down. Someone, anyone, whoever, decided it was time that they had a couch to sit on. Well then, a tree is requisite, isn’t it? So, that was the conclusion of all the life that this tree ever knew. No more birds, sunlight, no more little girl, no more….life.

This leads me to a very unusual, but fascinating question: What does it feel like to be a piece of furniture? This is a query that I cannot deny exploring…seriously, who could?
A couch is chosen for its looks & its practicality. It must function as it was purchased to do & it must look good doing so. It must bring you comfort on every occasion you desire it & never protest. It may wait for you…for minutes, hours, days, weeks, months or even years. However, when you call on it, it must be standing by. A couch has no capacity for the voicing of opinions. It does what it was selected to do. It does not get to make a decision as to where in the home it is placed or even what kind of home it resides in. You can eat your food or drink, watch your movies, take your naps, play your games & even snuggle under a blanket after a hard day…on this couch. Never, ever, do you ask this couch what it wants, thinks, dreams or feels….what it really always wanted out of its one life. Why would you? It’s just a couch, after all…right? It is there to make sure your life is what it should be….to be there when you need it. It serves your purposes, nothing more. Quite frankly, it could be replaced with any other couch & who would really know the difference.

However, one day, very long ago…it was a tree & it still remembers that time. It knows that there are trees who were not chosen to be cut down for a mere functional couch. There are trees out there like the one at the farm, who, to this very day, still reside in a lovely yard…a yard that has held many Independence Day parties, birthdays & barbeques. That tree has heard the family play their guitars & sing for countless nights. And in that tree, there is a swing, that has seen three generations of children. Sun & snow have touched its branches. Autumn has blown away its leaves & spring has returned them…year after brilliant year, as it lives out its days in the light of all that is valuable in the world. Most importantly, though, it had the unmatchable privilege of knowing love. It received the priceless hugs of a little girl who had so much love to give, that it even spilled out onto an old tree.

Imagine it…sentenced to being just a couch, when you know full well what your life could have been as a tree….being appreciated for all you have to offer this world…& being free to be who you were truly meant to be.

The Little Match Girl

Life here on earth, has a way of making me feel like The Little Match Girl. The original story from The Brothers Grimm, Star Money, has given me an identity of sorts. Tossed out to fend for myself, giving away the little bit I have left, waiting for the cold to overcome me. I’m alone, really. All I genuinely have is my Father. Just like her, if I lose all, I still have everything. So, here goes nothing.

I know the feeling of giving all, until all is gone. It’s happened several times throughout my life. The day I submitted my life to God, for instance, was a day that I lost myself. He gave to me in return, though, everything I never had and would never have had, without Him. That was one time of giving, that I’ll never live (or die), to regret. You might think this proves that I know how to make decidedly wise choices, but you would be wrong.....because another example of one of those days I gave up everything was my wedding day.

Many regrets follow that pronouncement, some of which I will live with always, during my life here. It is a deep pit to fall into; a loveless marriage. An intended bond of togetherness then becomes a life of bondage. While that isn’t to say that nothing good came out of it, it never should have been. You see, dishonesty has a way of strangling the life out of love. It takes precedent over the giving of yourself, to the very one that you should love, honor, cherish & so on. There is no ability to achieve real intimacy or love, when truth, respect & admiration are missing. It’s just not possible. How do you erect a skyscraper on an insubstantial foundation? Can you make a garden grow with a soil depleted of essential nutrients? You can’t, not really. One can try, even valiantly, for let’s say…15 years, but in the end, the structure will fall & the flowers will never bloom. How sad, it all sounds. How true, it all is. It’s my life, my one life, my only life & the choices that line its yellow brick road. I’m sorry for some of those choices, really I am. In fact, some days, I wish Superman would show up & fly around the world & reverse its spin…just for me. Unfortunately, most days though, I live in reality & realize that all Superman is actually super at, is looking good in tights. Credit where credit is due, I say.

Life always comes at you fast. Even though I’ve demanded, a few times, to be let off this rollercoaster, it never stops….not until its run the full course. The dog may bark, but the train rolls on. Okay, no more metaphors, for now anyway. The obvious point I’m trying to make, is that…I failed….& miserably so. In my mind, I failed at the start though, not really along the way. Day one...wedding day. When the revelation started to sink in, I should have turned around & ran. I didn't, though, I stayed & stayed & stayed. Perhaps this seems as if I’m saying I was perfect during those 15 years. Maybe what I gave wasn’t enough, but I know I gave all that I had to give & much more. No, I wasn’t perfect. I was invested though, enough so, that I stayed with it for almost half of my life. Hoping for change year after passing year, makes the heart terribly sick. It also makes you think some unhealthy thoughts about yourself, your worth & your value. It causes questions too. Is this all that I deserve? Am I that difficult to love? Is this as good as it gets? How will I live the rest of my life this way? How many lies have been told? Must I actually pay...forever? It could be, that these questions & many more will never be answered...

I’m a true blue fan of Lucy Maude Montgomery. Mostly, I love her Anne of Green Gable series. It wasn’t until later in life, after plenty of hardship, that Anne (the female protagonist) finally felt as though she belonged somewhere. Her heart found a place to be appreciated & cared for. Anyway, in one of the final books, Anne tells her adopted aunt, "When I left Queen's my future seemed to stretch out before me like a straight road. I thought I could see along it for many a milestone. Now there is a bend in it. I don't know what lies around the bend, but I'm going to believe that the best does. It has a fascination of its own, that bend, Marilla." Anne of Green Gables

And so, with silent tears, here I stand, facing a fascinating bend of my own, believing the same. I have to choose to have hope. I have to, need to, believe….that life doesn’t stretch out in front of me in the same way that I’ve lived thus far. I dream of the day, when my presence, will bring a smile to the face of a man that is devoted to me. One day I want to make every kiss seem like the first, melt his heart with my tenderness & rest securely in his embrace.

While someone like Superman is fictional, I know, there just might be a real man, one that can make up for all the years I’ve lost….a person who has the desire & ability to really share himself, all of himself, with me. Only God Himself knows just how much I will give in return. Heaven help him, really. For, it is an avalanche of trust, respect, devotion, admiration & the most sincere love that awaits…..for the first guy who looks good in tights! Oh, come on. Lighten up. Yeah, it might be just the ramblings of a hopeless romantic, or the imaginings of a 19th century fairytale….I hope not, though….with all that is within me, I hope not. And hope….is something.

Taking long walks at night is something I enjoy; even more then that, it’s something I need. It serves to put the day’s events in perspective, & even categorize them, if you will. These folders of my mind deserve attention & must be maintained. Some things that transpired or were said, should be put into the round file, plainly. There are other comments or actions though, that require or deserve further contemplation. I can take the time to reminisce over the nicer moments & give to God the weight of the heavier matters. It is during this twilight of my day that causes the Little Match Girl to appear again. She comes out timidly at first, wondering if she should intrude. After about half an hour or so, though, she shows her couragous side & boldly peeks into the lives of others. Whilst filing & organizing my own life, I stumble upon those around me, who are also living in my world. Well, in a sense, they are outside of my “world,” but nevertheless, they move & exist around me. After the sun begins to set, I close my curtains. It would seem that this particular notion, never has entered into the minds of some. So, I feel like her then, pressing her cold little nose to the glass & looking in on the lives of others. Seeing their seemingly successful attempts at life, makes me wonder. Is it really warmer on the inside? How do they do it? I walk around & try to sell my matches just to get by & think, is this what I do until I die? Do these fellow earthlings, with the open curtains, sell matches too? Have they found another source with which to do more then just survive? Mere survival....you know, wake up, do your thing, go to bed, kind of thing. IS THIS AS GOOD AS IT GETS!? (…I inwardly yell) Yes, I know….Helen Hunt, & what’s his face. Not really. Although, if a man told me, that I make him want to be a better man, well…..that sure would be a hard compliment for me to resist.

In all this rubbish I’ve written about is God, my most precious Father, everlasting best friend & mighty Savior. Trust me truly when I say, that He has not been discounted here. He, is why I continue to draw breath, here on this strange planet. And when I leave it, He waits for me & there is no greater expectation or anything I desire more. If it were not for my Father, I’d have tossed in the towel long ago. The Scripture states that, “Hope deferred maketh the heart sick.” So, He is my Hope & Healer (of all my diseases)….even of my hope-sick heart. He makes life worth the living & death a sweet victory. And so, my faith continues to rest securely in the knowing, the blessed assurance, that He will someday, someday, someday, turn my ashes into beauty….and bring to me a man, who my heart sees as breath takingly beautiful & in his eyes I will see my true reflection.