The Passing

It was coming, the soul had a few clouds around it, there were things that needed to be said, permission to move on, before the body says goodbye, the great cruise ship of eternity waiting. Solomon was telling the Great God, he was greater than even the words of old, the wonders of the light, the messengers he met along the way, the thousands of angels that waited, prepared and armed, it was time to let go. Like a child about to go on a great journey, a mother about to give birth, the pain and the excitement, both have to let go, then the Spirit is set free. She pushes, there is sweat all over her, why do you make it so difficult, the angel is in the corner, she is in for a great surprise, go on  girl, it’s going to be all right. The crown appears, the nurse squeezes her hand, it’s going to be a minute even less, the rest of the body emerges, she has finally given birth. The dot that is invisible, that is only visible under a microscope, carries the history or habits of generations, that invisible dot, would you believe it, I hope you realize this is not made up.

The soul, the friend enters, well a friend always makes you feel good about yourself, even when your up and down, those who are not so friendly leave you with a frown, anxious, and happier when they are gone. It’s going to be fine Solomon says, no moaning or temp feelings, this is permanent, yes, there are those who alert us to all the is harmful, that is because they pass on their own fears, the old soul smiles, he believes it, he knows.

The scales of Justice, what has been the impact of your life, did you reap a harvest of Spiritual love, did you bear good fruit, were you a tricky sort, trying to get the best out it, without given anything back, did you raise your nose as you chided others with your judging, as those in your prayer group said, they are not like us, or did you do what Jesus recommended and reached out. The old soul, a good Samaritan, his life moves on, a gift to another, when the Spirit will get even stronger, amen. Grief, well, if you upset the most high, you have plenty to be anxious about, and grieve I would, but if you bring the light with you, what have you to worry about. Solomon sighed, He will always be my friend.  The last moments they shared, a real good smile.

He’s just like Grand dad, they group around the new born, amazing, tears in their eyes, amen.

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The trail around the corner…

Here for the auditions, a car passes, they begin to scream, it’s him, a few of the more cannier ones use the distraction to steal a few places, they are closer to the door, there’s a life to be gained once inside the door, might even get in the paper, bling, a boyfriend with a football club, it’s hard to ignore, the trail around the corner. Inside the talk is ratings, the flow of cash, how they need to become more risque in order to attract, more electric wallets.

The career, she went to drama school, studied in the auditorium, had a real love of song, now she is being controlled by the accountants, and her dealer, well, the cocaine never disappoints, and she can hit it all night. The long dress is now a mini, she has disrobed in the papers a few times, the tit bit doubled her sales that week. Now she is on the verge of a nervous breakdown, have another pill her manager says, there is malice in his eye, who are you after all, didn’t you do the trail around the corner too.

Solomon sighed, it’s never too late to change lanes, amen.

Stop for a moment will you!

I was enjoying this, he looks over his shoulder, turns away from her, his hold still on her, the evening news is on, the results of the mid terms, I don’t believe it she says, wow, Mitch Romney won a seat in the Senate, I thought he retired years ago, the time Obama beat him, The O word, it only relights his anxiety, the thrill he gets beating women, okay she says, you can start beating me again, he continues his strangle hold, nice one he says, catches her clean on the face, at least the children are at school, they won’t see the state of their mother’s face, that’s what they have make up for

, so they can hide behind it. The beatings are as common as breakfast, it’s a family tradition, and because it’s a domestic, it does not alarm the neighbors, they are only afraid of thieves, besides, when the hammering goes on, they usually rise the volume, it doesn’t last more than five minutes, pity she ain’t McGregor, she’d get paid for it.

Domestic violence, and the way it fills the prison system, has done for centuries, the foundations they say are everything, well, if daddy did it, it has to be okay. How many had to live that situation. The preacher is telling the gathering about the reading, its’ a 3,000 year old script, he is trying to get the point across, a good presentation. In the audience, 20% of the women have suffered domestic, but it’s so endemic, well it’s no cause for alarm, the men it seems, like all that weird stuff online, can’t seem to help it, poor things, they’d follow any habit so long as their was a thrill in it.

Solomon sighed, just a prayer, where is this stuff coming from, where were the habits formed, what family life is worth a daily reminder of hell, he sure couldn’t imagine Jesus there before them all, smiling and sighing, he’d have sent the Spirit it, and that would have been that, the reminder they would get, every time they raised their hand in violence. There was a lot to learn. With Christmas fast approaching, many just wanted peace at home, no more the bully. As for those who traded and encouraged, the perversion of the young, words are too impossible to find, to imagine some, trying to profit from the sexpolitation of children, many mere toddlers was beyond comprehension, wasn’t it time they got the alarm call, while those who were trying to put a halt to such horrors, got the insight they needed. A prayer does the business, at least the Spirit within him would be on the case, amen.

Journey of My Soul

Man, did that get her attention, she hadn’t heard those words before….

words, what is he going to say next, they were all listening to the “Guru”, waiting for the inspired words to reach their ears, silence, they stare at each other, the assembled, inside they feel a little pious, well, they are the lucky ones to be in the audience, to even hear the words firsthand, Solomon sighed, imagine what it was like for Jesus, in real time, you can’t beat the original.

What is a journey anyway, it’s what happens in between the times you were born and the time you leave your soul, the meat in the sandwich, the experiences that you fell into, the niche you found for yourself, the choice between comfort and risk, decisions. A Journey is a serious of decisions, some made for you, some you make on your own. Solomon was at a group meeting, a bunch of story tellers, the theme they had to write on, the journey, the journey, so many different meanings, endless. Some journeys you make as a tourist, sightseeing your way through life without getting to know anything, some you make out of great distress, the troubles that befall you, and how you deal with them.

Then there are the journeys that change worlds’ Solomon smiled, he’d a few of those in his lifetime, not just one, but a whole bunch of them, each of them juicy on their own, but he got through the maze. His inspiration, those who made similar journeys, well, similar in that they caused him to take the risk, and go the route less taken, when you go jungle as they say, and forego the usual comforts.  Nelson Mandela, persecuted for taking a stand, Che Guevara, immortalized, Martin Luther King, too, the point being, those that made those choices before, laid the stones of future journeys for many, and each one of them, did it, one day at a time, the speeches only came at the end.

Monday, a new journey, he was asking for help, sure he would be assisted, as prayers made in the Holy Name, never go unheard, and it just happens. Believe, amen.

The Pearly Gates Moment….

Getting ready to have the last breath of this world, preparing for the graduation ceremony, you feel the heat, there is a slight panic, you are nervous of course, you have been practicing for this moment all your life, the beats intensify, the moment is near, what will the first question be, you go through the check list ,pass that one, won’t answer the section on charity, give the envy part a miss, you are running out of options, only because you are nervous, but you have been a good student all your life, bing, the machine goes dead, your in forever land, the land is green, there is brightness in one part, you see your friends who passed the test, over in the other corner, those you want to forget, some who wanted to forgive, did i pass the test. St Peter opens the Gate, he scans your soul, what state is it in, did you learn anything he asks, why you ask a question like that, Peter shakes the head, didn’t they tell you, life is a learning experience, not a day trip. You can’t find your voice, but it doesn’t matter, the scan is going fine, no major cracks on the disk, at least they can make sense of it. From around the corner a voice calls out, did you find one

yet, Peter turns his shoulder, not yet, but it’s getting closer. The pearly gates moment, what a day, amen.

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 dieP1060580 when you continue to learn, even when it came to old bones, amen.

Feeling Sorry….

Tired day long night had too much did a bit too much stuff, head hurts, sleep unruly, facing the day, another Monday, difficult getting out of bed, I really want to get out of my head, the world is mean and I am feeling sorry for myself, what have i done to deserve this, crunch, the world revolves around me, cause all there is, is me, my problem, thinking about nobody but myself, the root of my problems. Reaching for the medication, it’s not prescribed, two pills later on your feet, thinking about going to work, is there something i missed. The coffee is sharp, the brain unwinds, do the teeth, thought of having a shower, a splash of deodorant will cover the smell, get me through to the evening.

The stairwell is navigated, soon your on the street, rush along, where is the nearest transport, you don’t feel like walking, then you rush across the street, it’s busy, you’ve done in a thousand times, rushed, you get a thrill out of danger, the white shit you suck up your nose, mixed with rat poison to get you a little higher, when did you last read the contents of any medical product, probably never, you just accept the doctors advice. The kids are unruly in the car, she turns around, the latest scream from the three year old, ear shattering, too much, she wants to give him a …bang crash, he slides into the path of the car, slipped on a banana skin, she is unable to react, you go under the car, crunch, you hear your bones shatter…. the light, they are all around you, you can see can’t hear, feeling sorry…

Solomon lazed over a coffee, it had been a tiring day, the usual suspects were at it again, selling fear and anxiety, as if trying to unhinge him, selling him their habits, as if trying to be helpful. He goes through the day, it was exciting in parts, he enjoyed the banter, the way a smart politician enjoys a debate, he was listening, adding bits and pieces, not trying to over indulge. The bathroom is busy, two no hopers sniffing their heads off, well, they started behind everyone else, education poor and their parents alcoholics, feeling sorry.

On the street, he is there, it’s been a rough life, over reacting to the abuse passed on, the sentence a long one, we’ll make an example shouts the judge, the domineering father, church sponsored most of it if the religious would only admit it, his bags with him, all his possessions, slept with those just as unfortunate, while 25 trillion rests off short, and five times that elsewhere; the old man smiles, Solomon asks for a light, he needs is buzz too, we are all in this together, walks on. Feeling sorry, no shower, no bed, no place to put your things, right in front of you, how many just pass and say nothing at all, afraid of contagion. Then the woman taking over the duties of the priest cause the priest did an elvis and never showed up, how things change so quickly, feeling sorry, do something about it, for someone else, amen, your deeds determine who you are, amen. when three meet in my Name, the Father is there with you, words of Jesus, you are not alone. Solomon sighed, the nights he spent on Knock hill with the two old boys, the stuff you remember, and all the big talk shit that means nothing at all, just as the Father said.