The Bird Stopped Singing

Silence in the street, the familiar hum is gone, the beat that used to fill your head, the side to side rhythm, the bird is silent, but his memory lives on.  How we take it for granted, the sound of music, birds and their tweets, the friendly smile that used to lend you a cigarette, and those conversations that went anywhere but always had meaning. There is no economic value in a bird song, there is no money in music on the street, well, you can press the button and have it automatically, why would live music matter. Solomon heard of the passing on of a good soul and friend of his, a member of the James gang, an outlaw type.  Mornings spent listening for a half hour, the requests he played, Neil Young and more, thanks he says, I’m sure your entertaining elsewhere now.

Good leaders, how the business minded only value money and nothing more, amen. There had to be a loading given to wisdom in the days ahead, the danger to the environment, the abuse of communities, the madness of celebrity culture, there are artists who inspire. Solomon reflected on the many times he heard the banjo play as he rounded the corner, and the smile it would put you his face, and the few requests he could make. It wasn’t economic the activity, but it was wisdom to support it. He had in times past, and now he could as God Most High, and expect to get a hearing, even when he wasn’t right. You never stop listening to music, thanks John.

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Crisis In Numbers

Not enough votes to unite us, and too many votes that divide us. Numbers, the way we weigh things up, you don’t have enough numbers, you can’t get that, we wont get elected, you can’t afford that, numbers, little wonder there is a book of numbers in the ancient scriptures. The more you have in numbers, the safer you appear. The so called wisdom, and in our rush to get the numbers right, we ignored the other numbers, that apply to the health of the planet.

Crisis in numbers, not enough men and women to fill the roles and preach. Church in crisis, the numbers, how can it last. Crisis in Spirit, how do you increase it, the power to change the entire.

Children will shame you, and if you are intending getting into the higher love, a child you must be, a young person, not necessarily, it’s an appreciation you are supposed to show for the world and it’s creator, The Great God Most High. You are all children of a higher love, none of us are the boss. When the numbers reach the tipping point, the changes begin to take place, and we reach the critical level, so it seems.

Crisis in numbers, so much of the world already extinct, a number worth worrying about.

Finding Redemption

She sits at their kitchen table, has been speaking with their friends, her lawyer too, she has caught him cheating, she is waiting for him to come in the door, their santuary has melted before her eyes, the cocoon they built, was it all lies, I trusted him with my happiness, and now it’s all about to disintegrate. Her life is over, she is barely forty. The time I invested in him, worse, the other men she gave up for him, the career she set aside, maybe that is an excuse, another reason to hate him, we all strecth the truth, sanctimonious, who isn’t. How she liked fixing their meals, the list gets bigger. So many things she overlooked, the stuff she put up with, inside she tells herself she is perfect, well, he was the one who thrashed the relationship. There is the sound of a car in the drive, she fills the wine glass before he comes in, she doesn’t want him to have one. She is angry.

I’m home he says, she hears his voice in the hall, he has no idea that she knows, or what is ahead of him. He drops the keys on the counter, I’ll open another one he says with a smile, he needs a friend, he is looking at the bottle, it’s empty, why the silence he says, he is full of himself, a great day at the office and two weeks off as a result. I know she says, what, they have told you already, that’s quick. He fetches a glass sits down beside her, why the gloom he says, she is prone to depression, he doesn’t rile her, she gets over it within an hour, she has been that way, since she lost the baby.

It’s only your imagination he says, when she confronts him, he understands, she has not been feeling well these last few months, it’s easy to understand. Compassion, he is a patient man.

 

Those Old Wars

A lot of bloodshed, a lot of heart break, does anyone remember their names, hardly, Amo nods in the bed, still a teacher, he listens, it’s all that He can do these days, listen. You are not feeling well he says, his visitor is an old friend, they were in college together, that is sixty years or more, over a hundred and twenty years between them, come to think of it, a lot of living time on the planet, a couple of major wars, the great one in 1939, do they all remember that, ration cards, doing without petrol, driving the car twice a week, if you were lucky enough to have one.

I’m getting old Amo, says the friend, not unlike yourself, they share a smile. They went on the odd holiday together, when travel was a huge experience, not the twenty four seven event it is now, when tickets to anywhere can be bought within hours of flying, and half the price when you do. Amo sighs, everything moves on, in the end we leave behind what, memories, that are hopefully, a legacy of a sort. The old friend, nods. Will anyone remember us, the thought is on his visitors mind, Amo has no such fears.

Immune to the news, Solomon sighed, when we hear too much of it we switch off. There is another appeal, another famine zone, another disaster, another social meltdown, the car moves along, the radio is changed, music, an awful lot happier, positive. Immune are we, to news and all that we don’t want to hear. Solomon pursed his lips, an observer, he watched it all. It must have been the same at the time of the ancient prophets, the news no one listened to, the descent into pleasure, this is going to last forever. Time tells us, it never lasts, maybe that’s what we need to recall, it is all passed on, your habits, good bad or indifferent.

The Great Affair

What do you mean, he is having an affair, they look at each other, then they look at her, their stare is accusing, you mean you could not hold him, as if it’s her fault he is off with another. She feels their accusing stares, they are supposed to be supporting me, their her original family after all. She raises her eyes, he was so charming, and didn’t he help them all financially, bought their loyalty, what had he said to them behind her back. Who can resist him, his reputation is so high, even the Pope likes him, and did he know how to use it, reputation.

She has mixed feelings, families are supposed to support each other, why are they supporting him, has he poisoned them too, why me. She gave him children, set aside her ambitions, she thought it was a life long commitment, then she sighs, she was attracted to his sneaky ways, how clever she thought as he regaled her with the office politics, she thought he was sharing with her, no secrets she thought, what a blessing to have.

He leaves her, not that he tells her, emotionally he is gone, has a long term plan, had all along, the children would get older, he’d become more interesting, other friends, well, we all have to grow up, snide remarks, getting fat, she thought he wanted her to loose weight, well, try having children and remaining in the same figure, better chance asking Houdini how he did it. In despair she leaves the meeting, is alone in her car, her thoughts are all messed, she is even thinking the inevitable, maybe that was his plan all along.

He will sympathize with her family, they will all say a few words, and will make up, grief does that, unites, ask any terrorist or extremist group, they all use the emotions. A car passes her by, driving too fast she says, she slows, gathers her thoughts. You’ll get yourself killed she says to herself. Back in her self, she notices the signs, there are bill boards, insurance, money advice, then in big bold letters, Need Help, she see’s a smiling Jesus, eyes wide open, inviting her, she recalls when she was a child, how the family got together and prayed, happier times, her father being a man of Great Spirit. He will never let you down he used to say, her father that is.

The meeting is an invitation, she decides to attend, and in that moment, her heart begins to change, she regains control of her senses, a voice tells her, it’s going to be okay. The Greatest affair in her begins, and the choice is one she can never regret, old friends are best, amen.

Solomon sighed, pity those who use the reputation of God to get ahead and don’t live up to it. The world was changing fast, and the signs were on bill boards all across the sky, an addict could not ignore them, amen.

Old Friends, A Living Prayer

Daisy D gone to the world above, your kindness towards others inspired so many, Old Amo, your wisdom is still is use, that Spirit is alive too, Gerry W, you were so kind and patient, they all still miss you, enjoyed the wine and the banter, never a cross word, calm in a storm, there are few like you, Miss Philomena, you were the most active of angels, like your Father before you, and to all the others, so many great souls have passed to the world above, a harvest of goodness followed them. Being in the zone, Solomon was calling on the Great Spirit, the Father of Heaven and Earth, remember those who fell in your service, the Spirit you filled them with, is badly needed again on earth, the voices are calling out, Amen.

Solomon sighed, his prayers got heard, so why not ask, put in the request, you will get a fair old hearing. He asked for help, did what many considered impossible, if only he sighed, they had seen the Invisible. Don’t put a limit on your heart, use it. What good is all the tomorrows, when today is the only day that matters.

He sighed, his little friend, and all the children under threat, were getting help from the only source the demon feared, and that was music to his ears.

Men and Women, who else is there to blame!

Ma, why are they always fighting, they claim to believe in Jesus, God, The angels, and they hold bibles and holy books in their hands, I don’t understand it, Ma is at the table making a cake, she is taking a fistful of white dusty stuff, flour I suppose, she puts her hand into a big bag and extracts a white load, white stuff spatters everywhere. Ma, why don’t you use a measuring scales, how do you know there is enough?. Ma smiles, what a bright child, always asking children, just as she reared them. If you don’t know something, open your mouth and say it, wise advice for any mother or father.

Ma is a dab hand at baking, she can do it in her sleep, and she always gets them right, her cakes famous all over the world, even some leading members of the country have enjoyed her cooking. Ma, why are they always fighting, I don’t understand it says the little girl, who is reading her book at a side table, while watching her Ma put the ingredients together. She wonders how ma gets it right, she doesn’t use scales, dips her finger in the baking powder, a pinch of salt, a splatter of eggs, a whisk around, a grease proof sheet, a flat pan, and an hour later, a Swiss roll, so darn easy. How does Ma do it. she listens to her Ma, always has.

Ma bends, slides the baking tray into the hot over, then begins the clean up. You want me to help, asks the little girl. Put on an apron first says Ma,

I don’t want you messing yourself. The little girl takes the drying cloth, ready for the wets ma will soon supply.

Why are they always fighting Ma?. Ma sighs, she has let the question sink in, as she dips her hands into her own sink of dirty dishes. It’s important not to sell propaganda to Children. Ma knows the little girl will believe her when she answers her. Ma has seen the religious networks favor their own, has seen the harm they caused, by not listening to each other, always ready to believe the very worst, then passing it on, poisoning children and minds, creating division, when reaching out and listening, as Jesus said, was the answer.

Little girl she says, you are young, there is a lot to learn. I haven’t got the answer to your question, but I fully understand. The little girl is surprised at Ma, she usually has the answer to everything, she is also in awe of her own questioning attitude, this she has just learned. The little girl continues to dry the dishes, thinking to herself, Ma doesn’t have the answer to everything, somethings she has to learn for herself, amen.

The dishes are washed and put away, the kitchen counter is clean, as it was before they started, ready for the evening meal. Ma, the little girl asks, she is in a very inquisitive mood, are there other questions Ma doesn’t know. Children love to learn. Getting addicted to machines and online stuff is not the stuff they were born with. Ma, why is there so much of the man and woman stuff on the internet, you know, the child lowers her eyes, you know what I am saying, the mother coughs, this is not the question she expected. How do you explain to the child, the interest in all things adult, how do you answer that.

You will have to ask men and women is what she wants to say, but she defers, the little girl is too young for that.