Blessings

written two thousand seven hundred and twenty three days ago almost, give or take an hour or two, well close on that time. He meant to say years, but the sun was high in the sky, and it was hot, was it sun stroke, Ezra is walking around the wild flower field, he’s talking with the angel, so real, he is both amazed and frightened, not frightened in the sense of today, but frightened at the scale of the disclosure, there’s loads of blessings stored up, the holy grail of help. The angel is humming a Johnny cash tune, what’s that smiles Ezra, he likes the beat, down down down in a blazing ring of fire, down down…is that a sad tune your humming asks Ezra, momentarily distracted, the mornings work has been a load, something the angel knows. to ease the mood he picked a tune from the future to help Ezra relax, for some reason Johnny cash was in his brain jukebox.

The humming stops, the angel smiles, nice tune isn’t it, Ezra nods, now back to business says the angel, i don’t want to loose the job and the boss expects results. Ezra raises his eyebrows, i’m listening, come on. yeah, blessings, it’s a treasure chest, once you unlock it, well, they are there for the taking but you have to earn it that’s all. How do we do that thought Ezra excited, am i going to win a camel,

maybe my own water well too, what a blessing he smiled, i’ll have all i need, and we will have water for ever too.

Solomon was reading Ezra, the ancient writings. Interesting stuff. The Faith to believe was in deed the gift. amen There are blessings stored up, to be poured out, you just have to be able to receive them. So that’s what they meant, the words always confused him, to those who have more will be given, faith he sighed. He saw her on the street, he saw them everywhere, everywhere the faith was working, new looking people, amen.

Do you like Lobster jack!

She hummed and hawed, the beef looked over done, there was no obvious blood flowing, the tell tale drops that fall from the piece as you drag it to your plate, when semi rare. The serving lady waited, proper bitch she thought, who does she think she is. A thickly perfumed lobster was before her on a different tray, she wanted the surf and turf affect. And they spoiled it because there was  no blood flowing from it, the beef. The cutlery rattled another fifteen minutes, as the gathering scrapped their plates, apart from her lady ship, who hardly toyed with it at all, like the lobster jack she said under her breath, loud enough to be

heard by those close to her, i’m not satisfied the tone of voice, why did they drag me out of bed for this, she was an aging diva, but this was no ordinary event; it was a fund raiser for the famine effort, organised by one of her oldest friends, her former agent, he didn’t supply parts anymore, other than tacky over cooked beef. She thought it was a call for work, another final role in her startling career. They used to flash them for me, i could leave them waiting an hour and they would still be waiting, for her, the greatest diva of them all.

There is a tingle of glasses, silence, the auction begins, an air of excitement, ready to bid dear, the quite call of many of the celebrity gatherers, you can even have dinner with Donald trump i hear, he’s supposed to have offered it, for twenty five thousand dollars though. I never knew he was so thoughtful says another. Am i offered ten thousand folks, this is the T-Shirt Bono wore on his last world tour, come on ladies cries the MC for the night, imagine the memories and your stories, imagine it he says. Who owns the T-Shirt dear, didn’t i tell you, you mean he was here!.

The Baby lets the jelly flow from the relief packet, it’s a nutrient filled mixture, will keep her alive another week!. Her mother tries to smile, a TV producer is trying to get a smile from her, the contrast, the mothers joy at the food the child consumes, help. Well, make that a common feeling, connect the two. The producer isn’t cold hearted, he’s trying to max the event to the full, connect emotionally with the future TV audience.

Solomon was listening to the radio in his small apartment, another call for help, 24 million starving, hope they react he thought; the Spirit he encountered was not of this world, meant that God was in the game and not going away either. What does he see through the eyes of children, what voices does he hear, is there an extra response expected from the gifted!, pass the lobster Jack, it’ll pass for now. With reluctance she begins to spoon the shell, the sauce is excellent, makes up for the over cooked beef, there are people starving after all.

 

 

 

The Garden

The evening air, the fading light, the warmth, mid summer, sitting around a table, trees to the left, grass at the feet, a beer in one hand, a few friends around. They were meeting with a Spirit, a stranger but a friend, the power of the universe was in their hands. The words of old were lost in translation, one of them utters, they all agree. The number of wars fought in the name of God, all because of the translations. Every way you look at it, it has to be a flowing river, and it has to be allowed it’s natural course. Was he talking about the river, the words, or was it themselves. He them made a triangle with his hands, it’s this simple. We are all part of the living earth, given talents and energies, how we respond is the same plight as the gardener and the crops, it’s what you put into the experiences that decides the outcome. They looked at each other, they were all young fathers, there children’s future depended on what they did, with the garden.

The Voice

Her ears shifted up, it was the voice, there was a rhyme in her heart, it wasn’t that she listened to pure rhythm, it was the way her heart reacted, there was an ease in her stride, even if she walked in the dark, she couldn’t see, so she learned to feel emotionally, the senses. Her eyes had never been cast upon envy as the eyes do normally see, they did not see the love that was on parade, it wasn’t that she wasn’t feeling inside, it was the way she expressed herself, the gentle sigh, the call of a bird in the trees, love is never threatening, just brings along a case of sensuous anxiety sometimes, so it was to the voice she was tuned, it was how she dealt with the difficulty of sight, having eyes and being unable to see, being blind while being able to see.

Solomon was remarking on the reaction of a fried, the widening smile, and how easy it was to ad a little sparkle to any life, how the lack of threat was freedom to many, just being able to be oneself, true. There are words we want to put on situations, sometimes we can’t find them, our emotional baggage is too heavy, other times we are afraid to utter them, afraid of the reaction and how it could change something. In the cafe he heard her voice, it wasn’t the conversation, it was the way she blended her smile and words with that voice, amen. It was music for the heart, that voice.

The Little Man

It’s my day, he wakes with a rush, lies in his cot, just wonders, the little tot. It’s going to be great, he knows the routine, he’s going to get a choice, he already knows it, and he just smiles from the heart, then the door opens, and there his mother stands, arms open, her eyes wide with wonder, his eyes fling wide, pick me up look in his eyes. She laughs, come on you, she carries him to the kitchen, puts the child, in his seat, puts the kettle on. The worry is over, the demon is gone. She’s found the help she needed, made the step, went across to the other side, met others who were afraid like her, and since that day, her life has been a turnaround. The escape plan of the emotional kind, is now time she can save to spend with her child, the little man. he’s seen what not ought to have been witnessed by a child, but she has forgiven herself, and her little man feels it too. The dark energy is gone, remain in the zone, and don’t go back. It’s her mantra. Every time she looks at him, all she feels is love, it used to be despair, for what she put her child through, those demons she met along the way.

Solomon was reading a story, how addiction is overcome, and the results, the new heart, that resulted. We all win when those in need get the help. Why didn’t they get to rehab sooner retorts the noisy neighbor, why do we get into trouble sighed Solomon. Maybe to remind us, that we are never alone. Solomon encountered Holy Spirit, and each time he asked for the help, it just arrived, and he didn’t have to imagine it. Amen