Spirit Women

In praise of you all, I am a mere man, yes, my brother men made it difficult, they put barricades around common sense and made it hard, worried your children and put traps before them, caused dissent among you, and chose the most influential, and when you no longer shined, they dumped you, raised Joan of Arc, Marguerite Porete and many others, after they nailed them to the bonfire, maybe it was in order to teach us, we read about it later, what happened, but remember this, the words of Jesus, they did the same to the prophets of old, it wasn’t a woman thing, it was all about power. Making trophies of beauty too, the very thing Jesus railed against, put their energies into controlling everything, the very thing real love never does. Yes Spirit women, there are causes that arrive like conveyor belts full of troubles, trying to distract you ,trying to focus you into someone else’s war, listen if you have ears, cast your love wide, and bring as many good souls into your nets, do as Jesus would say, learn to heal, put your Faith in Jesus and the Holy Father, amen.

Solomon sighed, he was listening to a friend, a woman of great Spirit he knew was being overwhelmed, had suffered as a result. While Solomon listened, he imagined the huge number of causes anyone could get caught up in, many of them created to distract and divide those of Holy Intent. Behind the scenes there are those who agitate and try to distract, watering the Spirit as they say. Solomon prayed, remind them this night dear Father, send these extremists the nightmares they deserve. He sighs, Solomon encountered the Holy Spirit, and saw the wonderful affect a few nights before, the sense of awe among those gathered, even the preacher was dumbfounded, let there be more, amen. They were even talking of Miracles, who can complain about that. it’s the start of something new and wonderful.

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Old Bones

The door swings open on the bleep, procedures, security at the old folks home, they are afraid of intruders, while the inmates watch the door hoping someone will visit, anyone it seems, the comparison, just a lesson, who we let into our lives, and who we decide is good enough, the human race, old bones in the end. He climbs the stairs, it’s a bright spot, those inside are lucky, well cared for, and it smells fresh, none of the odors you get as you get older, yeah, that stuff, ever wonder why in big cities they have those sweet smells, the council does the perfume routine, and pours it into the underground sewers, how sweet, we are all the same in the end, old bones.

The blip, he enters the room, tired face, years gone by, etched with memory, and as the days close out, the regrets too, Solomon is there to add comfort, not that it will be that much, he knows how to raise the Spirit, and when the Spirit rises, old bones are renewed, the wrinkles turn into smiles, and the old bones are no longer old bones, but a friend again.

He listened to the radio story, the inhabitants of the home, the eyes pointed towards the door, they are hoping for a visitor, but they never come, says the nurse in charge. Solomon sighed, we all fade to some degree, we all get old, we all have memory, and then we become undesirable, well, not as useful as before, old in many cases. Did we not realize the wisdom lying in those beds, and what they can teach us. He takes a deep breath, naive perhaps, but you never die when you continue to learn, even when it came to old bones, amen.

Why should you write…

It was a valid question, he wrote after all, she was a successful doctor, she was trying to understand him, he sighs, she is his type of woman, she actually listens. He gives her his answer..

“when I wake in the morning, it’s a new day, it’s not a case of the same repeating itself, it’s new each and every time, they eyes may tire, but the scene is a new one, no often how often I see it, a bit like your patients I suppose”

She pauses, trying to get her head around it, she nods.

“I get it, we need to be both listeners and observers at the same time!”

he smiles

“when we write about it, it becomes part of history, written with clear eyes, not fogged, as they say”

Fill the Shoes Chaps….

Over the top the first man goes, only to be eaten by a lion, over the top, the trench, they all stand up, in the meantime, those in the background, giving the orders, change their position, hoping something will work. Next, the woman hears voices, she is suddenly a prophet, we will use her as an example, till her prophecy becomes a conflict, when she doesn’t co-operate with those in the background, they tie her to the funeral pyre and light her up, and so it goes, again and again, they lift them, support them, and when they grow tired of them, they give them the chop, and they wonder why they can’t get anyone to fill the shoes. Years later, fro mall views, the groups in conflict, morph into one, the only thing they have in common, money and power.

Solomon was reflecting, reality, not the rose tinted expressions of a few optimists. In certain parts of the world, there was devout worship of God Most High, and adhered to strictly. In the other part of the world, those who tainted those who held beliefs in the world above, what are you bothering for, they are all saying. Solomon was watching the play from the middle, extremism had many friends in all sorts of places, he prayed accordingly, that God Most High silence the extreme opinion, especially at a time, when there were those making concentrated efforts to increase wisdom and understanding of their view of God. Love is color blind, amen .

It is easy to reflect on why so few over the years, ever stood up, or stood up, only when hidden in a large group. Did the world want the Peace of Jesus or business as usual, he could see the critics to that one, amen.

Big Brother

Remember those adds, the conspiracy theorists, big brother is watching you and all that rubbish, it’s a pity they didn’t look in the mirror instead, they might have actually learned something. The greatest action they ever did, was curb wisdom in all respects, Mc Carthy in America, and a long list of others, big brother is not as smart as it thinks. The reason Solomon was reminding himself, the effort to force the old machine, the same old dogma, the loads they put on shoulders, and how they try to justify themselves, Big brother, they were clueless, spying was the correct description of them. Extremism was trying to raise it’s ugly head, why bother he thought, Big Brother is watching!!

Addiction

Can’t fill the gap inside, it’s impossible, can’t, I am going to throw up, she is on her feet and moving, not too bad he smiles, geeing up her Spirits. She is seriously wobbly, will collapse at the first obstacle, he holds her arm, he is leading her to the toilet. Spittle at the edge of the mouth, her hair once lush, has thinned out, he waits outside the door, making gestures to himself, this too will pass. Alcohol addiction, what a curse. He listens while she washes up, readies the energy, she will require his time for a few days, in order to get over the worst of it. The nerves will settle, it’s just the encouragement she needs at the start.

The bathroom door opens, there is a smile on her face, the same smile you would imagine on a small baby, after taking it’s first steps, i did it I did it, you sure did he sighed, how easy was that, a little effort, a smile on a face. She makes it back to the bedroom, her glass of water is half full, she will want a refill. A loud sigh, she is between the covers, food he asks, she shakes her head, I will get you a glass of water instead. He leaves the room, ventures to the kitchen, takes a deep breath, slogans come to mind, he makes an effort to ignore them, refills the glass, heads back up the stairs. She is sleeping, day one over he sighs, while leaving the glass on the bedside locker.

With a little help from you friends sighed Solomon, and it’s easy to overcome, an addiction.

How Much More

The book is on her lap, the bed side lamp is lit, it rests at an angle, she wants to read before she sleeps, but doesn’t want to go blind, the new light bulbs overly bright, too sharp for the eyes. It’s getting to the interesting part, it’s a detective novel, they are about to unmask the killer, then the bell rings, she checks her alarm clock, after one in the morning, Cindy her daughter is staying over with friends, who could it possibly be. Her heart thumps, the dreaded feeling, the blue neon flashes outside, the police, something must be wrong.

She passes a picture of her only daughter, please God, don’t let it be her. Her throat constricts, the tightening of the chest, she struggles down the stairs. She lost her Husband to a sudden heart attack the year before, has only got over it. The door opens, the first face she recognizes, her daughter, a big smile on her face, a little bleary eyed.

“Ma, I’d like to introduce you to my new boyfriend, he drove me home, I hope we didn’t upset you!”

“Scamp!”

Death is not the end in any case, and those who think the worst better be aware. If you can’t forgive, you pass on hatred, it’s as simple as that.

Solomon was in the bar, coffee and a bite, he is joined by the seekers, they have heard the news, something is going on, and it can’t be explained away, the same way they hide the truth under the carpet, it’s real. He encountered the doubters many times, and as in days gone bye, they all want proof, somethings never change, amen.

Doing in the Head…

snake oil salesman, comes to town, opens the back of his truck, this will cure you he howls, while those seeking hope gather round. $2  a bottle, the folks stick out the hand. They are doing their heads in. Jesus sighs, did they ever do anything simple. They put so much effort into getting ready for the ritual, they lost out on what it all means. He is listening to it, so are those who turned away, its simple, you don’t need all that.

Meat, days, washing, foods, he throws his head into the air, why are they making what is so simple complicated; it’s the same as giving a lawyer access to your thoughts, sooner or later they will find some fault and then the arguing and division will come.

He warned the pharisee’s, why do you burden the people, it’s simple. So in order to help, he sits down and tells them the story of the good Samaritan, who were not popular to others in the day. They listen; this dude can call down thunderstorms and miracles, don’t upset him, they listen; How you love is how you treat total strangers, that is who you really are, not just how you treat your friends.

Food on Friday, meat, washing hands, ritual cleaning, circumcision, none of it matters, no matter who who are, if you don’t fully love. The barriers to entry, that religions had created, needed to be revised, it was that simple, unless it was a cult they were aiming to achieve, amen.

The Escape Route

She reached for the bourbon, drops two clicks into the glass, a few pills in her palm, she is used to them, taking them a long time, her head goes back, the tablets then the jack, she swallows hard, a good night sleep, she hasn’t had one of those in years. The TV is playing, the current offering does not suffice, she plays with the buttons like she was throwing dice. An old movie, she was young when they first saw it together, her eyes well up, the tears will flow, a combination of self pity, and love long lost. Years ago she had the chance, she chose the career over the chance, that love finally found her. Successful in all respects, the trappings are not a problem, the garden is perfect, does she give out about it, usually after a late night of booze, otherwise she is quite calm, till the night comes. She can build, she can encourage, she can motivate, but there is no escaping the hole in her heart.

Solomon sighed, Love has to be a flow, same way a plant can’t live in damp marshy soils, apart from a very few. In the world that attempted to own everything, including our genes, there was no ownership for love, only a responsibility for it’s safe delivery to the next. Many folks had troubles, everyone, some went deep, some went into despair, it was how you dealt with it, decided it all, the escape route. Building walls around your troubles, was only a delay.

 

Give Me Shelter from my fears…

What was there to hang on to, what was there to worry about, she was being moved on again, the lady in the old gray coat. Her dreams were years ago she can hardly remember, but she held on as long as she was made to, then decided to throw it all out. The bags are stuffed full, she pushes the trolley, her sleeves rolled up, its not that cold, besides you get used to it, she sighs. Those arms were so smooth once she remembers, then again, so they, did any of her friends remember, hardly.

Passed on the street, she snarls under her breath, they are looking at me, she would she says to herself, as if her life was all that mattered, and it did, but that was part of the disease, she walks up the steps of the great cathedral, there is always comfort there, and all of a sudden she wakes up, reaches out her hand, and feels him beside her; just a dream he sighs as he holds her close to his side. He gave her shelter from her fears, she remembers,

amen.