I should be here, he is awkward, there are lights on the tree, the air is filled with joy, it’s made for children, the wonder and the surprise, Ahmed is surprised, they celebrate Christmas, the birth of Jesus, the same Jesus we pray to, why aren’t we having a celebration like this. His friend TJ is showing him his home, their parents are away, normally they would not be allowed to do this, the adults not allowing it, but since they are children, they don’t have any of this bias.
Solomon sighed, how barriers are so easily created, when a little wisdom could short change this negative approach easily. Children enjoying the promise of Joy, families and friends being a little more thoughtful, people more together than usual, the world a little warmer in some hearts. Jesus, it’s the same one, for all of us ,why allow a little dogma separate you from joy. The rules we create that divide us and the walls we build around us.
books are banned, look this way, they are not us, the rules we are imbibed with, it’s as if our thoughts are decided for us, there is a sale, we all look, is there any place where we can find peace. Dreaming, what we recall, do we see the life out there, and more importantly, there is more to you than you think. As for white this and that, what is a color anyway. It’s Christmas time, the memory of the Birth of Jesus, the refugee, on the move, the local tyranny, the Roman empire, trying to impose control. Now it’s the Friday to shop your life away, the big stores prepared, the small shop a poor relation, well, they don’t sell it, but at least they are local. How we sell our lives, and our community away, to satisfy a short term need, is this what we did to the environment.
Jesus taught us, we are Gods, all of us, but you have to create space inside, a clean up in other words. Solomon was trying to get his head around this Friday thing, all those minds with bargains on the mind, what a way to treat your life. If it was pink Tuesday, well, what does it matter, amen.
Not so dumb anymore, the children are saying what the adults are up to, the trees are talking to each other, the oak says to the birch, there is help out there, here that young girl, from Sweden, I thought they sing over there says the birch, the oak shakes his ears, you been listening to too much AbbA, aren’t we supposed to listen says the small birch, the oak nods, there is a breeze. His home is a home for many friends, problem is someone wants a new set of furniture. every time he hears a chainsaw, it’s the same fear a human fears, when they hear the door open in the middle of the night, when you are expecting no one, you shrivel with fear. The oak has had a few close calls, he remembers the tree hugers, the good humans who formed a ring of safety around him the day the chainsaw men arrived. Not all humans are bent on destruction. They have an addiction for money, and are willing to do anything to get it, the worst addiction in the world, dumb, they can print that stuff they call money.
Oak smiles, birch leans over, what are you smiling at, oak looks down on birch, have you not been listening, birch is too immersed in himself to notice, he is as fearful as a cow on the way to the killing shed, it’s going to happen soon, one way or the other, death, oak is just trying to cheer him up. Help is on the way, I can hear voices says Oak, birch stiffens his leaves, you are hallucinating again. Damn says Oak, did you not read the news, the children of the world are getting real upset, they won’t let their parents get away with it no more, inaction. Remember the name, Greta Thunberg, she will encourage thousands, millions even, and when the children scream, the Heavenly Father listens, they haven’t let him down, the message will get heard, it’s how you get a reputation where it matters, you get trusted. Sure says Birch, his tension beginning to ease.
Solomon sighed, the wisdom of God will be shown through children, and they will make fools of the so called wise. Its’ an important issue, in a world that sells cynicism and hate, the death of the Child within, as if the demons thought they could get away with it, not in a thousand years, amen. He thinks of his sisters and brothers, he tried to show them, that asking the father for help had a very large meaning, but growing up, they forgot the lessons of old. Maybe now, they will get to understand, thanks to Greta Thunberg, and many like her.
It’s amazing sighed Amo, the old gitter is being helped onto the toilet, he can hardly walk, but it doesn’t matter so long as he gets there, least he can sit normally, word power he says, how words can shock us or inspire us, frighten us, warm our hearts, constrict us, start a fire in us, simple words. The ears are always open to words, we are programmed to hear them. so long as we are allowed, that’s why there are those that restrict us, words, we don’t want that said, it will only upset our plans, the big reputation at risk, afraid to hear them, and what others might think, the framing of words, an art form. What do you mean Amo asks the nurse, while helping him clean his ass. Words he sighs, it’s how we understand the world, we can’t do without them, how else can we communicate.
Solomon sighed, the way reputation is guarded, how voices are silenced, words usually. The only reputation worth having was one of the Spirit, the Spirit that enlightens, not the Spirit that darkens, words again, how we use them. The first words in the ancient scriptures, the word became alive, and the world was created, by Great Spirit, the light, word power again.
Those checking their bank accounts ought to do a check on their Spiritual well being, the words they use, the sentiment in the heart, were they merciful, did they try to achieve at any cost, did they undermine love in order to get what they wanted, did they blame others for their own lacking, a few words he sighed would sort it all out, word power again, same as a good prayer, amen.
If Spirit is the communication tool that is eternal, wasn’t it time to get practice at it, given all the recent changes…
The question, the tragedy, the answers, no one can provide them, why me Lord, about to face death, bodies on bodies, children, men, women, stacked in heaps, she looks at the human misery, she is about to join them, has prayed all her life, a shot rings out, will someone pass the ketchup please, she falls, lies among the dead. her Spirit leaves her body, joins the world of eternity. Years later, those trying to undermine Love, damage trust, trying to create the desire for only earthly things, thereby undermining the well being of Spirit and our connection with the world above, speak out in protest, why her Lord.
God sighs, I’m not an arms manufacturer, free will was your gift, it wasn’t forced on you, I sent along prophets, to remind you, there is light and dark, even child birth is painful. The critic replies, but why so many, how was it allowed to happen. Experience, is the father and mother of wisdom, when it hurts we remember, when it’s pure pleasure we want it more, it’s not black and white, and everyone living is playing a vital role. You want to enter Heaven, nice words, but it requires an effort, and that’s what your life is all about, making it there.
The critic shakes his head, damn good answer, how about the movements for change, why so many of them, why such chaos out there, God shakes his head, a critic, what else would you expect. The talk as if they know, when all they do is study something small, and try to apply it, how often has that error been made. I made you stubborn for a reason, and if you read the old scriptures, you will work it out. You think this world is a free ride, nice idea son, just remember, one day you will all have to hand it back. Amen.
The angel looked at Ezra, what is he thinking, don’t you understand, Ezra asked for advice, the angel had come to him before, so the visit was expected. what is rare said the angel, Ezra was stuck for an answer, a smiling child, the angel raised his eyebrows, he is trying at least, and listens, which can’t be said of many, who listen and walk away. The angel shows Ezra a rare flower, Ezra nodded, all over the meadow there were different flowers, the angel was trying to fill Ezra with wisdom, join the dots, the angel is surprised, Ezra should get it sooner. Spirit, smiles Ezra all of a sudden, the angel was now surprised, where did Ezra learn that from, now the angel inquires, where did you come up with that, Ezra raises his eyebrows now, the tables had turned, isn’t that the reason we all exist for, ahem coughs the angel, Ezra is and will always be a rare gem.
Forty billion Jack, by the time we carve the company up, there will be ten billion left over in the reserves, which we can pay out, he laughs as he says it, payout meaning themselves, not so rare, amen. do they think anything else…
A budget few can imagine, he intends to treat himself, do one of those things, a twenty million dollar budget, peanuts really, he sips the end of the coffee, the room is conditioned, the air changes every five minutes, he is in the art gallery auction room, he has been eyeing a particular painting, wants to have it on his wall, view it as he takes his morning coffee, at home. The sales assistant has an MBA from Stanford, and a hundred other qualifications. Her couture is french, it goes with the heritage of the artist she is selling today, it’s a done deal, she is just a Maitre d. His mobile pings, he purses his lips in a happy way, strolls down the screen, a dab hand, he flicks to the email, he is a kind man, rarely self indulges, it happens to be his birthday. The news is good, a friend is recovering from a life changing illness, he closes the device, Ms Couture approaches, one final look she says, as she leads him to the showing room, where the packers are about to crate the new purchase.
He never sold much in his lifetime he says, referring to the original artist, one of those reclusive types, his life being all art, as all he did was convey messages with it.
Beautiful she says, standing back, I’ll miss it when it goes she adds, looking at the four by six, painted three hundred years before.
I’ll make sure it goes back to you when it’s time he says. She is surprised by the words, what does he mean, is it a present for a later date. he looks at the expression on her face, she is wondering at his words. He shakes his head.
“Everything in this life is borrowed, one day you have to give it back. Nice to look at though over a good coffee”