The Gift

“Imagine it, your thoughts can be used to remedy, heal, improve, restrict demons, curtail extremism, and an awful lot more, while being still able to enjoy a nice glass of wine, not forgetting the simple things, the peace of mind that good sleep brings, imagine, those demons of the night, they can do nothing, simply aware, of the future that awaits them, and being merciful, at least they get the opportunity to amend, and it’s all real.”

“Are you for real she says”, interrupting his flow. I only asked him about the book he was reading, she didn’t expect a thesis.

They are sitting side by side on the Jet, they are both flying across the ocean, strangers, she had asked a question about a book he was reading, “the imitation of life according to Jesus”. It’s a five hour flight, and he reminds her of someone from her past. She does not fear asking questions. Well, if he is reading a book about “Jesus”, he has to be friendly and easy to open a dialogue with, she hopes. Her own trust in the world is on a downer, divorced, discarded, dumped, thrown overboard, at a loose end, she is looking for the light. She’s been in this frame of mind all day, the journey she is making, a rest and escape from it all.

You don’t believe he says with a smile. Her eyes rise in her head, she looks at the ceiling, if only he knew she thinks. Dumping her stuff on a stranger, who wants to hear about other peoples woes. She purses her lips, half looks at the book cover, then begins to speak.

“If he was so right way back then, it seems he has disappeared don’t you think,” she lowers her eyes to the book.

Jesus she says again. He smiles, it’s catching isn’t it he smiles. The more you think of the Holy Name, the memories and feelings that are created. Well she says, you seem confident about it, can you explain it simply for me. He hums and haws. No one want’s to be a bad teacher, and not every question can be answered as if it’s coming from a machine or robot.

His tongue swirls around his mouth, he catches the scent of her perfume, it makes his nose itchy, he reaches up and rubs his nose.

“Spirit he says, it’s inside you, and there is the Spirit of God, that stuff you call the soul. If you imagine your soul as a new computer, without scratches, then years later, used, with a few cuts and smears, after years of usage, when you are prepared to put it in the rubbish, you might call it a journey. Life is like that disc. What condition is it in at the end of the journey when it’s returned to the original vendor, do you get me he says.”

She is confused, she is trying to get her head around it. Who wants a philosophy lesson on a mid Atlantic flight. Computer discs, souls, the condition at the end, she is thinking all these bits. He looks at her, can see that she is digesting what he has said, waits.

Confusing he says, she pauses, well, it’s not what I expected. The air hostess is passing with the trolley. Can I have a gin and tonic he says, and yourself he says. Non drinker she says.

She listens to the crackle of the ice, as the liquid flows over the ice. He listens and talks well, she wonders how long the flight is, there are many questions she wants answers to. Being an achiever all her life, this conversation is something she does not want to miss. Her Heart feels lighter, that name she sighs, Jesus.

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Understanding Compassion

You can’t look at me that way, you can’t come into the house and treat me like a slave, where did you learn such things. Another scene, they enter the club, the girls are toe rags, flash the cash, do what you like, you can get to humiliate them, they are so high, what does it matter, another man’s daughter. The thought never hits you, just legs and a bush, and time to get excited, someones daughter, what planet are you on.

He twists in the bed, the thoughts run around his head, getting older, he can sense the future, what if, the big question on the minds of many, is their really a Messiah and a God, he is soaked in sweat, what the blazes are you thinking Roy, this is insane he says, talking himself through his personal nightmare. Who can say no to God, well, many have said no to good, he twists in the bed. They sleep in separate beds, have been a long time. I loved her then, then, well, I do love her now, he is not sure, what was he hiding from all his life. She loved him anyway, and if he wasn’t busy in the passion department he was always a great father. She never told him, she realized his quirky ways, fell in love with them, the sexual world was never her thrill, she was always a mother in the making, and compassion is her way, way she treats the world.

Solomon wondered how many folks were having the what if moment, the signs were all pointing up, and the old guard were being swept aside, a new understanding was gaining a hold, and the plans of the extremists were about to implode. A man in power wore all the faults of the human race, went through the entire fault spectrum, warts and all, and the opposition hadn’t laid a punch on him, seemed as if he was holding up the proverbial mirror. Solomon smiled, who could have wrote the script, a pope from the edge of the world, Islamic leaders driving change, and a very open society in the Irish republic, a far cry from the closed days of doom and gloom that used to be preached, and the women who left many shores in order to find freedom.

Understanding Compassion was a topic on the minds of many. The light of divine intervention was making it clear; we are tenants in someone else’s vineyard.

Be Inspired Says Amo

Whats that Eamo, (Amo), the old man mutters a few choice words, will they ever shut up, rubbish he sighs, he has seen more than all the rest, with open eyes and a forgiving heart, has no  time for the narrow minded, found them a great pain, lousers, they would depress a flower, be inspired and share a little lightness, you will all be pleasantly surprised.  In the corner of the room, he hears the sighs, can read their minds, finds peace when in contact with true spirit, which he does most of the time.

Memories, what, he is tired of all the talk, would they ever talk about what they are going to do, he has heard it all, seen the impossible, has had his prayers answered so often, why the hushed tones, had they not learned a thing or two, he even recognizes the perfume they wear, all is known to the Lord, amen.

Solomon sighed, Amo had gone ahead of him, was preparing the way, leveling the field, uprooting the weeds, turning it all on it’s head, cause Amo didn’t sit their and dwell, he had a plan, and it was everyday, yes, everyday, the gift of life, he knew it from the beginning.

As for music, at least enjoy what your listening to he says, singing is free damn you, give it a try, they look at him in the bed, was he talking to us, of course I was he said, and you’ll be hearing from me, long after I’m gone, wait and see, then Amo put his eyes down, decided he needed a vacation, the rest is history. Amo’s play list includes…

The Wise man and The Fool

I’ll get away with this, his lawyers are working full time, they want permission to demolish the ancient site, it’s such a breathtaking view, perfect place for a Golf Course. Determined to have his way, spoiled since birth, has got used to what he wants, curries favor, never a problem, gets to understand the needs or lacking in the lives that make decisions, how easily they can be swayed, is known to go the ultimate, has done it more than once.

The Holy Place, a space where the holy souls meet, has long been known for it’s healing qualities, but as faith has suffered over the years, and with jobs no longer freely available, many who lived locally have had to move away, leaving the space undefended, as the lobby for the developer knows. After many refusals and a change of Government, the developer gets his way. Press conference later, his lackies and the lawyer, tell the news people of all the jobs they are going to create, the prosperity it will all bring. The old man who fought tooth and nail to stop the move, his heart broken, grows ill and dies. Immediately he gets a full home welcome, is given a choice of places to live in peace and prosperity, anywhere on earth, and so his legend grows and grows.

The rich fool, continues on his remarkable rise, builds and develops as he pleases, progress he calls it, has the usual suspects working for him, knows they will do as told, uses chemicals to keep him going, five star health service, has plans to develop the entire universe, wants to master it all, is on his way. Wives come and go, he changes them the same way an average person changes his car. Admired for one reason only, does the PR circuit, builds a library or two, good publicity too, everything is on the up. While discussing the next great development, the lawyer drops the daily on the table, interesting news he says, would you believe it, some people still believe in God, the article is about a sighting in the

sky, a picture from the book of revelations. The developer shrugs, probably photo shopped he says, turning away, but his mind is drawn in, could not be true, hears the warning the old man gave him, that fateful day, all those years ago, you know you will have to answer for it, he dismissed it of course, an old Indian legend, who believes in such shit, angry old man, wait and see, next thing you will be telling me, that God really exists, hahaha.

That night, the developer gets a heart attack and dies, his soul transported to the ugliest city on the planet, he is a child born again, living in a slum he created, knows he will be there for the rest of his life and every life thereafter, a reminder of what he has done awaits him. begging by the side of the street, a tourist passes by on a bus, he recognizes a face, it can’t be, it can’t, the old man he chastised all those years ago. Then he realizes it, the revelation, he is having a Lazarus moment, what a fool he sighs. He will spend the rest of his time sitting in the dust, eternity, and there is nothing he can do, unless…

Solomon sighed, he said goodbye to an very cherished friend, about to set off on a new journey, they both smiled, there was ease in both hearts, no doubts, it was all good, how many of us can say that, Heaven is real, and the Kingdom of God is inside you, it’s how you treat people and respect for God, not too hard to do, just imagine it, amen.

Children of a Lesser God…

Not the movie, great as it is, an old movie and probably more than worthy of a remake, whatever, no no no, the feelings inside so many, they ravage the rubbish dumps, walking on everyday bacteria, just to feed themselves, no, not by choice, because that’s the way it is, same as those toxic ships, that sail far far away, carrying first world thrash that is so dangerous, they fear dumping it anywhere near them, so they travel to those places, where tyranny and dictators live, before opening the hold, and dropping their cargo, into the once fertile sea, that provided life to so many, a sea with no boundaries no matter where you live. The children get sick, the mothers decide to move, they make treacherous journeys, some by sea some by land, where they face even more starker dangers, little wonder so many feel like Children of a Lesser God. Yes, the cry for mercy is loud, and the voices are being heard, and there are many changes afoot, it’s having the divine effect, opening the hearts of the righteous further, and sending fear into the minds of those who cause great harm, cause we are not children of a lesser God.

Solomon sighed, why bother chasing ambulances when you can write change instead. Inside us, there is this power he sighed, you just have to believe, amen.

Toxic Waste

Toxic man. nothing worth stealing what do you imagine he, they will do, she raises her nose, it’s out from her face. pointy, as pointy as her narrow mind, they will steal from us, what else do they want she says, he sniggers, a swingers club, both high on speed and coke, he reaches over the bench, it’s a shared situation, you empty into one, then into someone else, satisfaction and thrill, the elite thrill, well it costs a bundle to get in, you have to be seriously perverse, she is a socialite, he’s an aspiring politician, used to be with the clan, till he founded his own hard line group.  Quentin Tarantino, with real life without the flash of the pyrotechnics and the over hype, good old swing time, no talk of global warming, no immigrant nations, no internet, a lot of closed countries, cruel dictatorships and plots, assassinations, eighties america, God a thought, religious groups with control, talks of wars, the right wingers, and the threat from the liberals, toxic waste, dangerous, damn it, they even hate war, have they no idea how to protect the nation, he rages on, his ear against hers, he is carrying on with another socialite, passing on his hatred, some guy.

Don’t you believe in Jesus she says, all giggling, high as a trapeze artist. he reaches and snorts, not unless he has money he laughs and is american. They both break into a furious bout of laughter, I never heard that before she says, her eyes are pins.

Thirty years later, he is a respected politician, well, he bought opinion and reputation, and sided with those who were defenders of the nation, so called. Meanwhile, The heavenly power they assumed never existed, it’s been awhile, is being felt in many places, toxic waste disposal unit, he finds himself in jail, his friends are getting seriously nervous too, they are supposed to, he sold out everyone he knows….

Remove them sighed Solomon and replace them with righteous leaders, amen.

 

Migrant Mary

The tent leaks, it’s cold, but there is a TV, she is watching CNN, the debate is very personal, they are talking about the “Wall”, the door is closed to her and many like her, Dear God she says, is this always going to be their way. For cash they will allow the “dreamers” stay on, what sort of thinking is that, to build a wall, everyone knows you can cross any border these days. Mary is not your ordinary migrant, well, no migrant is ordinary, they take extraordinary chances to create a life, and they do. Miguel comes into the tent, her seven year old son, what are you looking at Mam, they are discussing us she says, his eyes light up, you mean we are going to be famous, he gets excited inside, everyone wants to be famous these days, including, seven year old Miguel.

The diseases have eased since the red cross doctors arrived, but the food is staple, porridge with lots of vitamin, meanwhile, the leaders of Davos, sit down to an eight course meal. There is a flash from the cameras, looks delish says Miguel, he is fed up with the bland food, and used to doing without. What are they discussing he says, he’s a smart child, can ask the right question at the right time, will make a good job when he grows up, if allowed, the other options don’t augur well, he is smart, and that is not something to be wasted. You don’t want him becoming a terrorist.

A teacher in her homeland, a number now, counted with millions of others on the move across the globe, when your without and you don’t have an address, there are few who take you seriously.

Solomon sighed, when will they apply the wisdom and teaching of old, all those old gitters are going to face the eternal judge, for real, they will all have to account for themselves, with all their educations and those expensive schools, you’d have thought they might have learned, have they not seen the signs in the Sky, should have gone to the opticians sooner I suppose. A war was raging, the old time nationalists wanted to turn back time, problem was mother nature was weaker, and they were all being used by the new world extremists. At least after all the troubles of the past, the younger set were not going to fall for that, as for Migrant Mary, the tent leaks, the air is cooler, but Miguel still dreams of being famous.