The Living Spirit

You don’t put in a box and take it out Sundays, it’s not a darn car, the Living Spirit, how often had it been said, you don’t put if off and leave it for special occasions and celebrations, it’s a daily thing. it’s not a woman either, or a date on a Friday night, dressing up, extra face paint or a clean shirt, it’s none of that either. They looked at him, Solomon sighed, I would be looking too if you only knew, the Spirit was alive inside him, and it came with reminders, There is a God, how often do we forget that, he sighs, why do we cart all that baggage with us, a memory he sighed. He was trying to explain the meaning of Spirit, how active and powerful it is, and the respect it demands.

It’s the people you meet along the way, the other souls you meet, how do you treat them, do you look away and ignore them, or do you give them a lift. They looked at him, their heads shaking, who is this man, Solomon did too. All he needed to know, there is a Heavenly Power, you raise the Spirit and get a track record, and they will never forget you.

The Season of lent, what was he giving up, he had so little he could hardly pay the rent. Did they remember the vows they swore the day before, same as those action movies, you forget the story and remember the celebrities. Supposed to be the other way around, the darn story, not the celebrity. The old scriptures, fast from being mean and resentful, there is enough bias in the world to fill the darn Atlantic ocean. So many things they want to know, no wonder Jesus gave out to the apostles, they even complained when he was nice to women, amen.

Solomon sighed, the desert, where he found space, he was far from that, get away and free the Spirit, he pressed the button, and let the voice in, sweet soul music. a half hour of inner peace, the cheapest form of therapy on earth, good music….such as Ray…

 

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Unsure of Yourself

Jeans are high, the T shirt, she glimpses in the mirror, okay, need to do the

high lights again, she in on her way to meet her friends, they are always comparing, then again, when were we any different. Solomon sighed, the three flowers walked ahead of him, three flowers form the garden, a tulip a rose and and a daffodil, each different from the other. What was wrong with being different; If the Garden needed an awareness of color, there was no way they could all look the same.

The day reminded him, Jesus and the old controllers, the rules they passed on, the rituals they encouraged and spread, habits of the religion, not the habits of God. he wasn’t complaining, just reminding himself, what was inside you was what counted in the end. So if unsure of yourself, just ask youself this, What would Jesus say; Solomon smiled, it is going to be okay.

Remember Neda

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Gun violence was in the news, the school children causing a riot, stirring up the temperature, putting themselves on the line, they can’t shoot children they thought. Neda, the young woman shot during the Iranian Revolution, it’s Easter, Solomon remembers.

The camera rolls while her life ebbs away, let the cameras’ roll, make my life count for something, she gasps reaching for air, knowing that very shortly she would be taking her last. Solomon imagines the last minutes of Jesus, the prisoners by his side asking questions, what sort of question would Neda have asked.

With her last few breaths, all she wants, is for the world to be aware of what is going on, the lives being stolen, the imprisonment of a nation, let the camera roll she says, then dies. So her spirit is taken up to Heaven, she meets old friends, deceased relatives, friends, then she spots Jesus, what would she say;

“they were not allowing us to live, enjoy beauty, it was as if these men were afraid of themselves” she says

“I know I know” he says with a smile on his face. he is glad she is there, there is a lot of explaining to do.

“It happened all over the place, they just enjoyed the control of women, that’s it!” he sighed, before adding;

“you give them a little power and they are soon addicted”

She rises her eyebrows, that’s it she thought, they were addicted to control right from the start.

Neda, young lady of the revolution, gave her life, made full use of it, amen.

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The Child Smiles

She pushes the buggy, she’s a young mother, it has not been easy, the windows she passes, she can see but can’t afford. The boy she pushes is her two year old son, his father is a delinquent, he has left them both. The money in her pocket will feed them for a few days, cheap pizza from the discount store, sugary biscuits and a little extra, not much more. Across the street, a stranger watches, he has been sent to help, they know she is in trouble. A vulnerable young woman and child is seen as easy prey to the evil mind, easy to coerce and control. She moves on, her smile is pursed, the child giggles, they pass the sweet shop, the boy cries out, she reverses, she can’t afford it but she tries. God Most High watches, 25 trillion off shore and the same again in other places. She feels the coins in her jacket, it was the money for the milk. They enter the shop, she stands before the display, the stranger enters, bumps into her, has gentle eyes. Nice boy he says, looking at the child, the eyes light up, the boy begins to laugh, the mother is surprised, she does not often see him like that, all lit up. You dropped this he says, with a knowing smile. She can read his thoughts, really she asks, he nods again, he never forgets he says. That smile is worth billions to the boss, every time he see’s one, something good happens.

We are going to have a treat today she says out on the street, while junior plasters his face with some sticky sweets, yeah says the kid, now we are really living mom

, amen.