No sad eyes, no shook looks, no outer signs, just be kind, be good to those who do you harm, piety and prayer is useless if you abandon the poor, amen.
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.
Meeting God requires nothing more than you creating the opportunity to do so. The rest is managed by God.
The waiting is over, your going home, it wasn’t as expected, a car accident, you are not alarmed, you have a CV, you have done a lot of good, you did well with the tools provided, the gift that you used, to enlighten. So there you arrive, clean and washed, at Eternity’s Gate, the angels are waiting, you are blessed, to even get that far. you were always humble, you never bragged about what you could do, you were just glad you could do it, you knew this life was a boarding card, you just had to have it in your hand, when you arrived at “Eternity’s Gate”.
Solomon smiled, gifts, talents, the abilities you were adorned with, the ones that you never knew about, because of the confusion you lived with, just human behaving odd. It could be explained so simply. He re read some of the old scriptures, it was clear as ice, you deeds and how you treated people, that was who you were. Piety did not matter, inner truth did, amen.
The lights come on, the machine beeps. the nurse jumps, he’s still alive, they are sending this one back, his papers need amending, but he has the work done obviously, amen.
Ever the feeling, the one thought that is constant, it floats from mind to mind, the moment when the stranger will appear, invisible but very real. How our Spirits are interfered with, the power of thought and well being curbed, as if someone had applied a break. It must be on so many minds, apart from those addicted, well addicted is too hard a word, it assumes medical need, the suppression of an old habit, it means there is something wrong, what are we going to do about it, almost. No, no, the scale of the problem, so damn political, the scale of the issue, sounds a lot better, particularly to the addict, a business proposal more the truth, you will pay for the therapy, you can pay me back later, the connotations, you can read so many ways. But the stranger in the room, the heckler in the audience, the noise that wants to make noise, the head miner, feeling for anxiety, hoping to exploit, Solomon was listening to it all, and most importantly, the stranger in the room, total recall.
We lived in a world where news was used to exploit undermine and unhinge at times, those receiving it, some call it head mining, others call it propaganda, Solomon sighed, it wasn’t exactly new or anything, it just happened that, that same power to harry people, was now in nearly every pair of hands in the world, total recall, smell the coffee.
A small miracle, the desire to learn the Irish language grows, Harry is upbeat, interested, there are twenty in the class, all mature students, when in school, many thought learning Irish was a waste of time, no money in it, no job in it, just another language that is dying, why bother, when you should be concentrating on math, who can argue with that. that was then, this is now. A dying language, so practical, the way the words fall out of the mouth, what’s in it for me, what’s in it for me, how often have you said that.
If only they made it more interesting in school, it’s how you teach it, and the values that you promote. Joy excitement intrigue meaning understanding, in school, few teachers do it that way. Can you imagine the early believers listening to Jesus, telling them about the new kingdom, the Glory of Heaven, and all that he was saying meanwhile, those who were ill were gathering to hear the good news, imagine the excitement, Mary is suddenly better, the blind leper, can see and his limbs perfect, imagine what they the believers were thinking, He is the answer to all our problems, awesome. Then he tells them, it’s inside you all, it’s the way you tell them I suppose, amen