a re blog, forever young….

via Lightness of being

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Learning Irish

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

Damn Damn Damn

 

They meet in the desert, the tents are busy, the hangers on hover around, wondering what they are saying inside. The light of God Most High shines, inside the wise men of old meet in Spirit, (They carry Holy Spirit inside), they discuss the meaning of love, and what it means in the modern world, has it changed.

Jesus stands up, he has memories, but they are not hurtful, even if they left deep scars inside and out, he has an understanding of the Father’s wish, that everyone be saved. The Great eastern prophet listens, his head to the side, the church leaders look fearful, their past connects with them when in the divine presence, it unsettles them. Moses rushes into the tent in a sweat; he apologizes for his sudden entrance, Jesus nods, haven’t seen you in awhile. Dressed in formal desert robes, old habits die hard, he has had a revelation from on high, the proverbial reminder of Heaven’s will.

We were just discussing the meaning of Love says Jesus, Moses smiles, it’s why I was summoned here.

“it’s up to us to rewrite it if that is what it takes!” Suleyman says. Jesus raises his eyebrows, he recalls the day they deserted him, left him, how often did they try to move him on, what a journey.

The prophet from the east, is listening, everyone is listening in the tent, the wisdom rolls out, actions are being mined in their heads. They decide on a first base principle;

Never take advantage of the vulnerable says Suleyman. Jesus sighs, this is going to be a long day indeed.

We’ll meet in my Tent says the Dali Lama..

A messenger has come, the “wise” are assembled, the ear of the Holy Divine is burning, the latest atrocity is a news story no one wants to hear; there is too much fear in the system, and the Great One wants something done about it.

(If they can poison the air so readily in Syria, they can do it anywhere!, this madness has to be curtailed, what chance have the bees got!)

So he summons the wise  men and women of Faith;  The Dali Lama, Suleyman The Prophet, the Leaders of The Christian and Islamic faith, to a meeting with Jesus in the desert. How can they solve other peoples problems when they can’t solve their own, it’s been going on awhile, something has got to give, or someone has got to give. The Great One is inside the tent too, behind the veil, he listens.

Sunny day at the oasis, what else, a mid twenty degrees and a sweet breeze, not enough to raise the sands, but cool enough to keep everyone cool under the collar, no excuses. The agenda is simple; all the leaders of their Faiths have to deal with in fighting, and this had been going on a long time, did they not listen to Jesus when he warned them about divided kingdoms; they fail.

“We have obeyed the Great Prophet in all that he asked” says Suleyman

The Dali Lama sighs,

“why is your great religion divided then, why can’t you go back to the cross roads and start again, people are afraid of the anger you share for those of your own faith; can’t you make it plain, you say Jesus is number three in your order, well if that is so, why do you ignore his teachings then!”

“What do you mean asks!” Suleyman,

Jesus is sipping some nice tea and having a few blows from a hookah; he is the only one interested in the pipe, a sweet blend, he enthusiastically partakes. When the others refuse it he quips to himself, maybe they should try each others company more often rather than hide away among their own; who isn’t afraid of what they do not understand. He takes the pipe to his lips, inhales.

“and what about the Jewish question?” adds the Dali lama, who is all smiles as usual.

Jesus raises his eyebrows, it’s a thorny issue, he thought that was dealt with, but it regularly raises it’s head, always when change is on the menu; the usual excuse, point in the other direction, he reaches for the hookah, peace man he sighs.

Inside the veil of wisdom, The Most High listens, and while those outside are not divided for once; they are talking, He sows wisdom in them. A week later, they announce, a new prayer, one for all of them, a small step, but a game changer. When the sworn

enemies became brothers the light they form enlightens….

Martin Luther King, and the all saints band present, one night only…

 

 

Martin Luther king, jimmy Hendrix, Joan of arc, hosts

Of others, Johnny cash, Michael Jackson,

the female martyrs, the men who went over the top,

 

The fields of Vietnam, the countries destroyed,

The brave spitfire pilots, the Indian tribes, the lost

Wisdom, the Inca’s, the few who survived,

 

the three Wise men, the prophets of old,

the mothers who struggle, many never had a chance,

the conceit of The powerful, the arrogance of their supporters,

 

Merry go round mentality, the road that never ends,

Celtic warriors of old, the truly regal beings, che

Guevara, a doctor with a heart, never gave Up,

 

the list goes on its endless, many millions sacrificed,

for something Worth waiting for, hoping defiant certain,

the current Conundrum, the indifferent classes,

 

women Fire constantly, the situation is untenable,

seeds of a current generation wither, and now we have

Raised the ire of God, and it’s understandable,

 

Children pouring their fears into the universe, the cries

Of the hopeless, it’s overwhelming, a cosmetic change,

Not really enough, young girl tied to a bed,

 

visited all Day, till there is nothing left,

caste inside she is dead, always been this way,

the poor will be poor, nothing that can be done,

 

the apathy of The talent, obviously God Most High,

well, assumes otherwise, being The one who plied us,

with gifts, games or no games,

 

For many it’s gone the wrong way far too long,

Change of direction, not a suggestion, well, the

Master is back as they say, and thinks otherwise,

 

Perhaps there are those who live Babylon wise,

What interest had they in love, don’t loot, yeah,

Just a few ideas to hurry you all along, amen.

Am I Doing it Right He asks….

Am I doing it right, he didn’t need to ask, the results did the talking, the child was bursting and smiling, his head at his shoulders, turned back, eyes gleaming, giving everyone who passed, a smile and a gaze, put them in a good mood, apart from frighten them maybe. A three year old driving a car,

 

the child would never forget it, and would have them in circles, despite the challenges, the coldness of the heart, suddenly defrosted, it was impossible not to be happy. The zealots were on the rack for this , as it brought out a smile from the heavens, and an awful lot more, this he was certain of. Their fate their ignorance, so be it, amen, mind those walkers kid, am I doing it right he asks?

 

Solomon was putting the angels in the breach; few children put a smile of such proportions on the boss’s face and everyone else in the vicinity. And since then they played snakes and ladders, intentionally trying to curb his spirit

, not his, but the Holy Spirit, Solomon wondered, the demon must have been fairly desperate, to even attempt such a thing, and fooled many into believing him, it’s what demons do he supposed, amen.

 

In the name of the Holy One, and only that, could mountains be moved, if you believed? He’d seen storms turn around, saw what was deemed impossible, amen.

He’d the scars to remind, and he would be always in debt for it, rescued so often, not that it enriched him, he could have, but held out to the end, and the end was eternity, something’s are worth waiting for, not many, but when it rustles the heart as well, it is hard to disagree with it, and

 

who’d disagree when you had it, the approval from on high.

Artists Artists Artists.. United?

He has something to say, you should listen to him, she has a new voice, listen, artists, the small child has words he wants to say, he’s a child no one listens, why. Artists, the great global consciousness, well that was the way it was supposed to be, the collective thoughts contained in their works, be it sculpting, writing poetry, long stories, canvas, all filled with need, their heads and the hearts, pouring into the world their thoughts; man, I wanted to hear those words, they mean something, artists, and what happens, or more important, what is it that this all means. Consciousness, awareness, the need to show, the necessity to open hearts to new pathways.

What in affect happens; down through the centuries, anyone who harboured thoughts that conflicted with the dogma of the ruling class of the day, usually thwarted, unless they had the patronage of the same people, and when some made a break through, difficulty is what they found, resentment caused, labels applied, unwell, not one of us and so on, unless the general populace loved them and defended them.

Solomon was reflecting, there were so many issues, so many you’d be lost in the haze. He read about the difficulties the traditional sources of comfort were having; loss of personnel, message not being absorbed, loss of connection, and so on. In relation to divine enthusiasm, if you based your “art” or “vocation in life”, on the connection overhead (Solomon encountered Holy Spirit, the real one, was saved a few times), a power that hit the peaks at the time of Jesus, you would assume you’d hang onto the connection, not by cheating, but by incorporating the principles in your life. If talent dries up, maybe it’s time for a career change, rather than go fishing for others talents, those less organised as they say; otherwise their divine connection blurs then dies.

Solomon was comparing the times of Jesus Christ, the threats that he had to overcome, the weakness of the believers in the face of miracles, and the regular threat, same today as then, of the already organised machine that controls so many lives. At a time when there has been so many signs, and they are on the way, everyday in fact, the danger of speaking up, saying it as it needs to be said, simply, be brave.

Artists, avenues for thoughts to disperse; there has never been a more needy time for them. Your job won’t matter if the toxic dump leaks into your water supply; and the environment for your children won’t change into positive territory, until you make the effort to improve things; leaving it to your leadership, is the same as waiting for Godot.