Understanding Compassion

You can’t look at me that way, you can’t come into the house and treat me like a slave, where did you learn such things. Another scene, they enter the club, the girls are toe rags, flash the cash, do what you like, you can get to humiliate them, they are so high, what does it matter, another man’s daughter. The thought never hits you, just legs and a bush, and time to get excited, someones daughter, what planet are you on.

He twists in the bed, the thoughts run around his head, getting older, he can sense the future, what if, the big question on the minds of many, is their really a Messiah and a God, he is soaked in sweat, what the blazes are you thinking Roy, this is insane he says, talking himself through his personal nightmare. Who can say no to God, well, many have said no to good, he twists in the bed. They sleep in separate beds, have been a long time. I loved her then, then, well, I do love her now, he is not sure, what was he hiding from all his life. She loved him anyway, and if he wasn’t busy in the passion department he was always a great father. She never told him, she realized his quirky ways, fell in love with them, the sexual world was never her thrill, she was always a mother in the making, and compassion is her way, way she treats the world.

Solomon wondered how many folks were having the what if moment, the signs were all pointing up, and the old guard were being swept aside, a new understanding was gaining a hold, and the plans of the extremists were about to implode. A man in power wore all the faults of the human race, went through the entire fault spectrum, warts and all, and the opposition hadn’t laid a punch on him, seemed as if he was holding up the proverbial mirror. Solomon smiled, who could have wrote the script, a pope from the edge of the world, Islamic leaders driving change, and a very open society in the Irish republic, a far cry from the closed days of doom and gloom that used to be preached, and the women who left many shores in order to find freedom.

Understanding Compassion was a topic on the minds of many. The light of divine intervention was making it clear; we are tenants in someone else’s vineyard.

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The Temple Door

He watches them enter, he has been waiting a while, there has to be one who understands, the words have to have meaning, not simple acknowledgement, there is plenty of that, who doesn’t need water to drink, an acknowledged fact, yet so much of it is poisoned, when it gets rare, suddenly things hurry up. Solomon reflected, why were the prophets necessary, why were they sent around. Reminders, there is a destiny, that even the demon acknowledges, were we supposed to be working towards that, making it possible. He is hungry, it’s a place where the worshippers gather, they are told to imitate Jesus and the prophets, he seeks a sign. Has been living on a bench, not a tramp, far from it,. he comes with divine authority, there is one among them with the faith Necessary, he continues to wait at the temple door.

The wonders of the stories of old, the constant rebuke of those in charge, repeated so often, no wonder he said it was great news for the oppressed and the poor, those moved out of societies view, it’s ugly having to admit the downside. Get them out of my sight, who needs reminding of that.

Solomon smiled, his Mother held the door open all her life, didn’t suffer the views of those who waited on society, to deliver. In her heart, in her family, active in your faith, and you will be delivered. How many times had the helper arrived, every time, and what was the response of the organised religion, the same as political parties trying to recruit a candidate?

 

The Monday Appointment

The train ride, it’s not what you planned, the appointment, the day you got the news, there is something there, we have to investigate, suddenly all your plans are turned over, everything is in doubt. Meanwhile, there are those who pass you in the aisle, laughing and merry, probably going on vacation, perhaps to visit a friend, your thoughts are all in the past, the Spirit is low, faces come to mind, stuff you were involved with, your filled with a sense of dread, this could be the day you get the news, well, the news you can’t avoid, like death itself, it makes you think. In the past you stopped at shop windows, you’d look good in that…carefree, the only thing you notice, stuff all about yourself.

When faced with your time of earth, and how it could be cut short, anything can happen, remember the morning of 9/11, a normal Monday too, or any of the disasters, it does make one think, what if, would you do it different if you got the chance, or if you had a prayer, what would you include in it. Life is fragile, the human mind and heart is easily harmed, as the past has shown, so what would you do, if you were given the chance of a second life, an extension. In a world that seemed to be encouraging stuff that was dividing souls, what would you do to assist it’s recovery.

Then imagine, you have that choice every morning you wake up, to do something life giving.  This morning, as many make the journey, imagine it, your not on a life or death mission, wondering if the news will be good or bad, but on a journey of Hope, where you can decide to change a life.

Gathering at the Table — smile calm Martin Luther King … a reblog

Originally posted Jan 26, 2013 I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit together at the table of brotherhood. -Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. On our path towards heart’s dream, journey’s value, at […]

via Gathering at the Table — smilecalm

Wednesday Christmas Song — Erika Kind re blogged

There are many many beautiful versions out there which I love. But this one is still my favorite and one of my favorite Christmas songs too. It also leads me back to the 80’s. So, there are many reasons I love this song. I know I am posting it every year… but I don’t think […]

via Wednesday Christmas Song — Erika Kind

One Smile

her eyes sagged a little, the chirpy smile was missing, it had been there a long while, he noticed the first day he entered, there was great spirit in her eye, he knew that he was in loves great care, and so he felt good every time he visited there, she has the eyes of a mother the heart of a lover, lucky woman he sighed, to be a friend of hers, awesome he sighed.

Solomon smiled, there were those he met who brought out the sunshine inside, in real time, how was that for awesome, and good at the coffee too.

Gandhi

happy birthday Mr Gandhi, the guest is after arriving, and he has a present for the great man, a bowl of peace, just what i was seeking said the octogenarian, well, he is a little older but his spirit is still young, and he has been restless in the pursuit of a peaceful world, his guest, smiles. What do you want to ask me says the old man, who suddenly stops and apologizes for not offering his guest some tea on the veranda. He has traveled a long distance, to seek the wisdom of the peace activist. There is great concern in the world, so many areas of conflict, and the leaders in situ seem out of touch, the wise oracle is badly needed.

No sugar, i’m sweet enough says his guest. There is a tray of biscuits on the table, Mr Gandhi reaches for one and dips one into his tea, a habit i picked up from the english,  he smiles, as he dips it a second time, oops, he lets the biscuit linger and it all falls in. Going to the same place anyway he smiles patting his tummy.

Peace Mr Gandhi, how did you manage it. Mr Gandhi has a childlike smile, his face is radiant, how i got into this place you mean, waving his hands at the surrounds, a paradise of calm and beauty, bliss. His guest nods, no, it wasn’t that peace he was interested in, but how the world was going to mend itself, the threat of wars a daily event, tragedies a regular news item. How do we mend the situation Mr Gandhi, his guest repeats. Mr Gandhi is on his fourth biscuit, and successfully dunks it. Patience he sighs, patience he sighs, not meaning to be overheard. His guest writes in a notebook, patience first. And don’t over react, it achieves nothing adds Mr Gandhi, usually makes things worse, his guest writes more. Patience, don’t over react, his guest is trying to be patient, but Mr Gandhi has his eyes on the biscuits, there is only one left. Should he share it or eat it, and sharing Mr Gandhi says, it makes people thankful, his guest writes sharing into his notebook. The biscuits are gone, Mr Gandhi finally looks up, he smiles at his guest and says,

“so why did you come to visit me then, did you bring any cookies with you then?”

I was seeking wisdom says the guest, oh wisdom, why didn’t you ask me that at the beginning, answers Mr Gandhi, it’s very simple. Once you use the wisdom you have, you get second then third helpings of it, provided you make use of it, it’s the law of the talents. Mr Gandhi sighs, his face droops.

Anything wrong Sir asks the guest?. No biscuits left.