Tuesday, May 31, 2011

The Author's Voice May 2011

The month of May is a tough one for me, perhaps that is why I wait until the very last day to write.  This month is a fresh reminder of grief.  A few years ago I lost a very dear friend to a mysterious and sudden illness in May.  And recently a friend of mine lost her son, a young boy, a soldier in the war in Afghanistan and Iraq.  Then just a few weeks ago another friend lost her husband of 45 years, within a few weeks of illness, he was gone.  So this month has definitely been a reminder of reflection and the painful reality of mortality.  With that being said I am very aware that life is meant to be lived and lived abundantly!  But I must indeed admit that I am thankful to be heading toward the month of June.... Peace to all you bloggers who continue to follow faithfully.  You bring great joy! 


(In loving memory of Debbi Tepper, Joey Dimock and the soldiers of 1st Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment, U.S. Army, and Joe Watts, R.I.P.)

Sunday, May 29, 2011

World Peace

Across the universe
Poets and seers have expressed
The vision

The ideal
To have peace
And happiness
Interlocking hands
Singing "kum ba yah"
Nations  of the people
Voluntarily cooperate
Against warfare, selfishness
And greed
A cessation of hostility
What's mine is yours
Brother and sister
Vibrations of mankind
Using energetic active words
To heal transform
And empower
The course
Of planetary destiny
The human heart
Embracing oneness
An all inclusive message
Fighting the winds of despair
Blowing from every direction
Ending strife convulsions
And chaos
Dawning a social evolution

The planet
Of sacred books
Hold the promise.

Monday, May 23, 2011


Enraptured by the lack of rapture
A rape upon the rapids
Of astonished beliefs

My ravished body fills with delight
Living each day as if last

Not snatched or grasped
Or clasped upon

A few more years to gather
To capture what belongs

Itching ears want to hear
The kingdom is near

Doctrines of the spirit
Discern the truth
Empowering each
With  different

Now seeing through
The mirror darkly

Cognitive dissonance
A  gift of learning.

Confusing at best

A plate of food
A drink of water should
Be the crux of salvation
And emphasis.

Not the waiting
Upon counting ducks in a row

Never ready

Always Willing

Thursday, May 19, 2011


Restless futility stirs within
A numbing pain seers my spirit
As the reminder of mortality awaits
Seizing opportunity of a fair skinned beauty
An innocent one, so sincere, so steadfast and strong.

Yet even the fairest and strongest can stumble across fate’s doorstep of the much needed rest of which stress remains hidden.

A strange world for her, yet so familiar…as if yesterday.
The monotone of the machines, patients crying out.
Sympathetic grins of the staff.
Resilient and apathetic.

The droning days pass.
One caressing another.
For breath to return, the willing.
Bring back to surface.
Reclaiming what has been broken.

(In honor of my dear friend Debbi...rest well fair maiden...)

Tuesday, May 17, 2011


With royal pomp and ceremony
Events mark our lives.
Sometimes with shock and awe
As if a theatrical trick is exposed.

Others are more quiet.
A holy and instantaneous
Awakening of solitude.

Unpredictable moments
Such as a first-born child
We are cut to the heart.
A graduation
Or  the finality of passing.

Life,  like an ever-flowing stream
Bears all its children away.
Current by current.

Deeper truths and trappings are pulled back.
A power beyond our own
The light that never fails
Is stirring the pot.

A time to turn
To reflect upon the hope filled sanctities.
When there is a break-through.

Only by our own twitching of the hand  
Will our lives become mussed

We can't change the past
Nor can we let its pungent stamp
Define us.

A lurch of the heart
Drawing us forward
To no return.

Even at our bleakest
The need to praise
To stand amazed

At all there ever was
And ever will be.

Monday, May 16, 2011


I want to believe

In these cherubims
The silver-tongued
Passionate and  annointed
Spiritual truths
From the ages
Riddling the pieces.

Parabolic simplistic synagogues
Disturbing and trapping the forbidden.
Uttering and revealing what is hidden

A revelation of things past
That which does not make sense
To the blind
The ones who will not go after,
Atrophied and stagnant.

Requiring thought and study
To the light of decision.
Its kingdom cannot be understood
Outside the perimeter
Of the fortressed walls.

Though daunting they do not see
Spoon-fed and lurking
By the calloused doors.

Healing will come
To those
Who are deliberately moved

Not by force
But by choice
To the answers
Of the labyrinth.

Seek ye first
And puzzle out
For yourselves
The clarity
And simplicity.

Hinge of the focused heart
Working and stirring
A change.

Tough and digging
Calling us to question
The Love
Of the Father's  Cloak.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Duty Calls

No rest for the weary

An ever increasing awareness of time

And the responsibilities scattered about

Shattered, frazzled, dazzling with my whims

Sharing smiles, concealing frowns

Whilst within, parts exhausted and worn

Yet pressing on for the call, the cause.

Willing to embrace a cry

“My cup runneth over”

Flowing into the confines, the mounds that surround

Never surmounting to the fears

Reaching out to touch, to extend,

To mend the Love

A decision, an act of will. 

(In honor of all mothers and those who have mothers...-previously posted-Lorely)

Tuesday, May 3, 2011


How quickly we forget
Sauntering clumsily back into our lives
With embellishment and fluidity.

The stinging of the desert sands
And the scorching of the obscured veiled eyes
Flailing the sandstorm into submission

A sanctimonious manhunt
Narrowed by the years

What have we learned about VENGEANCE?
Is it mine?

The teacher proclaims "namaste,"
Rolling up her mat.
Will there be a NAMASTE?
A day of devotion and reverential salutation,
Or will we devour the pious with our own grim servitude
And allegiance?

Taking up our mats
Will we follow?

Are the twofold turrets forgotten?
Another blip on the screen of radar
Crumbling in the dust.
The ashes and soot of tears
And fears.

The onlookers viewing their demise
Each step carefully orchestrated
With precision and grace.
Concealing their grins
By a shroud.

Sunday, May 1, 2011


Scratching for food
As the dark battle of death
Long as the evening shadow

Ears are open
While lips are pursed
Miscarried wealth and happiness
Lie in obliteration and despair

The same fate awaits us
Under the sun
Branding each of our skins
Righteous or unrighteous
Poor or rich

We are cursed
Without a covenant
Following rash promises
And restless dreams

To no avail...

(All people spend their lives scratching for food
but they never seem to have enough-Ecclesiastes 6:7)