Father Guibert states: “The distinctive mark of true piety is progress in goodness—at least, in the endeavour towards what is better. Between genuine piety and real virtue there is, then, a bond in their very nature.” “Here is a man upon whose heart piety has taken a strong hold, so that the thought of God […]
Artwork by JR Known for his colossal-sized installations, French artist JR is currently working on this large piece on the Mexican side of the US/Mexico border. JR posted the ‘work in progress’ photo to his Facebook and Instagram pages yesterday, along with an earlier photo below showing the supporting structure being built. …
Can you say it slower please asked the chairman, it was a meeting about the changing environment and the need for a re think on the environment, and how everyone depended upon the environment staying safe to us, clean water, fresh air, etc. The worlds experts had gathered in Basel, expenses paid of course, none of them traveled without the guarantee, lodgings, expenses, time off, a four hour show, four days in all, but one days work at the conference, all say yes!. Did you get paid Hans for the last speech you gave, no Erika, but they are having a meeting about it, i had to stay at a four star hotel last time, everyone else was in the five star. I hear they put the Norwegians in a B/B, Hans laughed, they’d be happier in an igloo.
Can you say it slower, the chairman tapped his ear piece, i’m not getting sound hear, i can’t hear a thing, he makes the remark to a techy, who comes over and fumbles with a cable. Better much better he says. he looks down at the Swedish environmentalist, the question you were trying to ask, can you say it again, my hearing aid is working he smiles. She smiles at him, i was just wondering, is the environment capped with the physical environment, the same way the threat is measured by the melting ice caps, just saying.
I don’t understand what your saying, but we’ll get to it later, next.
She makes me forget, what else, i want to do things with her, i cut out the rest of the world, i don’t seem to have as many worries (we share them instead and i have the mother load), stuff we have in common, hobbies you mean,….we both love drinking, and when i’m drunk she forgets it in the morning, well, she can’t remember, so this is what ye have in common asks the dating agent for the new online service, another happy marriage is touted, join swingers united.
And you miss, what is it, what brought you together, she pauses a minute. She begins to blush, he reminds me of my father, amen. The habits we pass on, i’m all excited again.
Solomon was listening to arguments, discussions, did God exit, what was Spirit, what was in our DNA, more importantly, how did it get there, lots of stuff. How did i meet your mother moment, do you want to hear the truth, what did the picture in the sky mean, did the manifested Spirit mean a closer relationship with God, how come those you pray for seem to do okay, and is God in all of us. He switched to the dating challenge, the two cuddlies on the couch, telling their story, millions more interested in that, well, at least it’s an ambition most achieve in this world, a partnership, i’m so excited.
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.
“you mean we aren’t responsible for global warming” asked daisy, who was seated at the rear of the class. it was a bunch of ten year olds, Solomon was filling in for the regular teacher, had no class prepared, the head teacher just asked him to supervise, kill the hour with them, surf the net, whatever, so long as they don’t make noise, okay!.
He sounds like my elderly aunt he thought as he walked the corridor, thinking, what would be a good subject to chat about, he was a good talker, and children love good stories. What’s in their own interests, make it personal for them, but not too personal. My Dad is an alcoholic and my mother is in rehab, how cool is that, no, not that reality, a little else, what is in the interests of children. They like animals, who doesn’t, they
like flowers, is this cheesy he thought as he entered the class. It was his first week as a newly trained teacher and he was getting used to it. Being a role model in the lives of the young was a big responsibility, they ought to pay us more he thought, his hand feeling the credit card bill he slipped into his pocket that morning, half his first weeks wages would go with it.
Mrs Murphy is sick and I’ll be taking over the hour he said.
He wrote on the board, in big letters. 70% of the worlds species are extinct or facing extinction.
Are we responsible for killing animals said daisy, whose father was a farmer, as well as thrashing the environment. My dad says you have to drill twice as deep these days to get clean water.
You are not responsible for global warning either, we are, my generation are!
so what are you going to do to fix it then asked Aaron. We can always hire a lawyer and force you by the way, that’s what they say, if they damage your prospects make them pay. Can children take lawsuits to force the government to do the right thing regards the environment asked another ten year old.
Aaron turned around, if they can impeach Donald they can do anything. Trumpie!!
He’ll arrive, the child waits, prays regularly, says it in private, no one knows, his prayer. Solomon listened, he was a child too, of His Father, the trouble was, which the small child didn’t know, that those with talents, sold them for cash, to transform their own lives, others an after thought.
At school he concentrates, he’ll arrive, the promise. Day passes into weeks, the weeks become a semester, a year, the child still waits. Seeking comfort, anything to ease his anxiety, he dabbles in playing mind games, when that comfort leaves him, he dabbles with pills, the alcohol follows, the rest is history. The void had to be filled, not with empty promises, but with today. The changes going on globally, were just a reflection of what the Big Child had to endure, just as Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen sang about.
He sits in the corner, doesn’t talk, refuses to co-operate, won’t eat vegetables, he is making his complaint, amen to the Big Child.
Before matters worsened for all the big children, it was time those who hid the secrets of true wisdom,
and the many warnings given down through the ages, opened up. Solomon saw the Holy Spirit, the other gifts too, God Most High was not myth, and those in positions of authority were under the spotlight like never before, amen.