My Life

He has no teeth when he laughs, there is just a wonder in his eyes, you asking me he says, what could be interesting about me; the school children are doing a survey of the aged, they are on a return visit to the retirement home; Old Murt laughs, My life, you want to know about it, the children nod. It was simpler then he says, he looks around him, there is disdain in his stare, used to care for the elderly, at home, at home he says to himself, in those days they did lots different. He doesn’t want to discourage them, they are young, and every generation strives to do it better, improve on it.  Murt finds he isn’t tired the way he is when talking to the aged, his own age. Young ones are enthusiastic, energy, he can pick it up.

My life, Solomon sighed. He’d heard from a few climbing the mountain; they believe this and that, good at rituals, rules for food, times, it’s well laid out, not too hard to follow; Then Solomon sighed, if there is no love in it, what does it matter, My Life, amen.

Advertisements

Don’t Look Now

He shakes his wrist, it’s a habit, the watch he wears is expensive, few can afford them, and it dazzles the heads of those who notice, it’s got him places, that flashy watch. In the exclusive bazaars of the east, the watch is not so handy now, it attracts the stares of those willing to sacrifice their life for it. He doesn’t stride so proud, feels rather uncomfortable, rich and white, displaying his wealth, gee, never knew there were so many needy people about, doesn’t feel like Manhattan on a Saturday night, more like the ghetto you want to forget. Not that he cares, it’s all a disguise. Don’t stare over there Tracey, she is looking at a man with a stump for a hand, Don’t look Tracey he says, she can’t help herself, she goes over to him, as if drawn by the missing hand. His eyes are pleading, she drops a few noisy coins into the tin cup, his eyes lighten up. Wristwatch Ray is not impressed with her. She is a new girl friend, another one, the field trip to the sanctuary, he wants to prove his credentials, that way he will gain control over her; the trip to the bazaar, a fancy she had, not his thinking at all, he prefers confined thinking

. How people are so easily impressed, don’t look now!.

The Rest of My Life…

No, it wasn’t the great sleep, it is simple, the rest of your life, what do you mean she said. She wanted to be free of them, older now, she had changed internally, she was looking out, same as a bird about to leave the nest. So much of the world is in a hurry, she is too, if I don’t do it today, the opportunity is lost, come on, she is making sense. The cocaine is helping her thought process, she is super confident, knows what she wants. So much of life is fueled, the emotional spears, the wounds that haven’t healed, the need to escape them. sometimes we need a push.

To the world she had everything money could possibly buy, inside, she wanted to hear what was real, not what everyone wanted her to hear, she was a queen trapped, as captive as a bird in a cage. So much we feel is fixed, she gets the rush of the high, she states her case, I need to fly she says. The arguing continues, there is no peace at the table, her friends, so modern too, they don’t accept the old ways, she points out to what is going on around the world, haven’t you noticed she sighs.

The SPIRIT is strong inside her, the changes above clear to all, the numbers re appearing, the revelations and all. Her Father nods, she is right, there is too much we hang on to that we need to let go he says, his wife smiles, she has suffered from the restrictive practices, some rules

are reasonable, but they don’t need to be enforced.

Solomon imagined many young women hoping the changes came sooner, while the elders remained stiff minded, but as usual, wisdom wins out in the end. THE Spirit is alive, the plans of the extremists implode on themselves, just a little patience required, that’s all.

My Eyes

Damn advertising Guru, could sell a g-string to your ninety year old aunt, and tell her it was comfortable, get you to forget yourself for a while, the blurb, you look great in that, even if you could not see, darn advertising guru, as for those psycho dudes, the head experts, is there a ship I could borrow, the mid Atlantic would be a good place to bring them for a Holiday, moor them off shore with their off shore accounts, a few strong anchors, away from everyone where they can’t do anymore harm. Blast sighed Solomon, he listened to the news, the crocodile tears, the affect of pornography on happiness, relationships, and children of course, the darn advertising Guru, what medication was he on, vitamin “M” of course like so many. Too darn busy getting their thrills to wonder about the affect it was having on others. Solomon encountered the “Spirit” the early apostles enjoyed, and when it is real, you don’t have to excuse your thoughts. So many eyes squinting over their small screens, wondering, is this love what we are seeing, cause they seen to be doing nothing else.

My eyes cried God, what are they doing to the children of the world. Solomon recalled the words of Jesus, God is inside you, the Spirit, it’s not over there, it’s inside you. Why pollute the eyes of God you wonder, unless you intended in murdering the Spirit within. Holidays are occasions, not every day experiences. One of those moments, he saw the expression on the faces, he prayed, there was a sense of disappointment. He listened to the words, the bread and the fish, the division of food, the Spread of the Spirit, well being, it was a lesson, simple as that, you share and it gets better for everyone, Amen.

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.

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.