Wisdom

Rules, we were made to break them, improve on them if you like, so the young assistant listens to the old man, rules, it was her middle name, the fear of getting it wrong, and the paralysis it creates. She was trying to appease the old man, they get diddery don’t they. She mixes the drink with the clotting agent, his swallow is difficult, the muscles don’t have the same dexterity, she assumes he doesn’t want to choke. Where are you from he asks, then he said, I like your accent.

I come far from here she says, her accent east European. She spoons in the thickening agent, and passes him the cup of tea.  He sips with difficulty. Her hand takes his shoulder, leans him forward, makes it easier. He swallows easier. I like your accent madame he says with a smile, so you have traveled too she imagines. You didn’t tell me where you are from, he says, he is smiling at her. why would anyone be interested in where she came from. She remembers her mother, her father, those left behind, inside she sighs, thinking of them, and the struggle they made in order to give her the freedom to travel. Wisdom he smiles, as if he could read her mind. Don’t be afraid to ask he says, with a smile.

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Troubled Man

It’s not easy to cope with it, the stuff that you are exposed to, the tired mind and the stuff that has been fed into it, and the experts and what they have been doing about it, the troubled man is young, he has seen so much, puts it into his sounds, rousing the Spirit, hoping to hit those who caused the mess, remind them of the disaster they have visited on the world, one day they will listen and sit up, he gets his guitar, gives it a rip, the noise screeches, the sound of a child crying out, a troubled man, who came up with this, where were all the experts, asleep.

Solomon was imagining what it was like, your young, too young, the stuff you see, it can’t be human, what strangers came up with this stuff, a question a lot of people want to ask, and what are they going to do about it. They call about the environment, the ice melts, the polar bear screams, the roar, what are you doing to my world, calls out to his creator, same as the one who made life possible, the vineyard tenants have been asleep, chances are things are going to change, raise the Spirit and become part of it.

 

It is time to shake the cobwebs, and to stop putting the head in the sand, ignorance or fantasy is not going to sort this, clean water, what, and you are worried about putting on a little weight, get real, who wants to worry about fitting into a coffin anyway.

Jesus in the Desert

Amo was teaching his class of young hopefuls, the Season of lent had become them, he was trying to explain it, there was so much confusion, long prayers and lists of words, what did it all mean, how do you fill a young mind with wisdom that will stay, do you bore words of repetition into their heads, do you argue like a lawyer until you wear them out, knowing they will grow tired and just give up, can you enforce them. Amo knew of the existence of God, had no doubts as to the power of Spirit, he had a dream the night before, a friend from a past life, came to explain, excuse his behavior and deceitful

ways, knowing that Amo was connected as they say. How do you justify yourself in your relationship with God. It was a question on the minds of many. Learning to forgive is wisdom personified.

In the Desert, Jesus wanders, free from the bias of the world, no favorites, only survival or death, it requires a lot of trust, so into the Hands of his father he throws his lot, this will end great or I will lose my mind, every problem you can imagine will greet me, I will soon find out, you survive it.

It’s going to be the opening statement, leave the resentment behind you, start from fresh, same feeling you get, when you are delivered from a life defying moment, relief and thanks, especially when it is unexpected. When it happens twice, you have a double reason, perhaps because we all doubt, because we all need reassurances, we are all children after all.

Amo, had a few lines of thought, more than one type of fly as if he was a master fisherman, a fly for every occasion. If the container is full of dirt and dangerous thoughts, harmful to the Spirit, did you insurance run out, worries. The stuff that fills the head, all that we learned and the stuff passed on. Lent or times of reflection, allow us the time and space to clean up, one way of putting it. If we don’t clean it out, the head, the stuff that remains inside us, is the same as dirt that attracts all sorts of bad things.

Amo sighed, he needed to think more, but he smiled, the class was listening.

 

Men and Women, who else is there to blame!

Ma, why are they always fighting, they claim to believe in Jesus, God, The angels, and they hold bibles and holy books in their hands, I don’t understand it, Ma is at the table making a cake, she is taking a fistful of white dusty stuff, flour I suppose, she puts her hand into a big bag and extracts a white load, white stuff spatters everywhere. Ma, why don’t you use a measuring scales, how do you know there is enough?. Ma smiles, what a bright child, always asking children, just as she reared them. If you don’t know something, open your mouth and say it, wise advice for any mother or father.

Ma is a dab hand at baking, she can do it in her sleep, and she always gets them right, her cakes famous all over the world, even some leading members of the country have enjoyed her cooking. Ma, why are they always fighting, I don’t understand it says the little girl, who is reading her book at a side table, while watching her Ma put the ingredients together. She wonders how ma gets it right, she doesn’t use scales, dips her finger in the baking powder, a pinch of salt, a splatter of eggs, a whisk around, a grease proof sheet, a flat pan, and an hour later, a Swiss roll, so darn easy. How does Ma do it. she listens to her Ma, always has.

Ma bends, slides the baking tray into the hot over, then begins the clean up. You want me to help, asks the little girl. Put on an apron first says Ma,

I don’t want you messing yourself. The little girl takes the drying cloth, ready for the wets ma will soon supply.

Why are they always fighting Ma?. Ma sighs, she has let the question sink in, as she dips her hands into her own sink of dirty dishes. It’s important not to sell propaganda to Children. Ma knows the little girl will believe her when she answers her. Ma has seen the religious networks favor their own, has seen the harm they caused, by not listening to each other, always ready to believe the very worst, then passing it on, poisoning children and minds, creating division, when reaching out and listening, as Jesus said, was the answer.

Little girl she says, you are young, there is a lot to learn. I haven’t got the answer to your question, but I fully understand. The little girl is surprised at Ma, she usually has the answer to everything, she is also in awe of her own questioning attitude, this she has just learned. The little girl continues to dry the dishes, thinking to herself, Ma doesn’t have the answer to everything, somethings she has to learn for herself, amen.

The dishes are washed and put away, the kitchen counter is clean, as it was before they started, ready for the evening meal. Ma, the little girl asks, she is in a very inquisitive mood, are there other questions Ma doesn’t know. Children love to learn. Getting addicted to machines and online stuff is not the stuff they were born with. Ma, why is there so much of the man and woman stuff on the internet, you know, the child lowers her eyes, you know what I am saying, the mother coughs, this is not the question she expected. How do you explain to the child, the interest in all things adult, how do you answer that.

You will have to ask men and women is what she wants to say, but she defers, the little girl is too young for that.

Impossible

Getting off your ass, saying goodbye to your friends, then waiting to be shot, on the orders of some despot sitting in a office somewhere, unbelievable, you could not write it, let alone imagine it. He slits the bag of powder, sticks in the tasting tool, tries to figure the potency, then smiles, agrees the price, great shit he says, putting down the small tool in his hand, the money is passed over, everyone is happy, business done, the powder delivered. A crime spree, the addicts can’t pay for it otherwise, it’s not fancy, it’s not a mansion behind closed doors, it’s not cool, but it ought to be legalized in some way, well, they chemical concoctions are unlimited and can’t be legislated for, impossible, the contents of the concoction are not in the legislation, so the lawyers say, the ones who come up with the rules.

Solomon sighed, he wasn’t frigid mentally, didn’t scoff the green, was glad to indulge, liked to get free of the world, so much stuff they go around with in their heads. They all carry baggage even if they don’t admit it, no one can fool the almighty. How simple he sighed, had they even heard of the intention of the law, not what was written, same applied to ancient scripture, a guide to the traveler, not the actual journey. One day, it’s a stream, that is what you are, impossible to believe, well try it first, before you give out.

Zombies rise from the trenches of the first great war, one after another, they walk into the metal barrage and fall dead, on top of each other, whose great plan was that. All these years later, only the arms manufacturing industry, the only industry that got the benefit, worth trillions, it has to start somewhere.

The Passing

It was coming, the soul had a few clouds around it, there were things that needed to be said, permission to move on, before the body says goodbye, the great cruise ship of eternity waiting. Solomon was telling the Great God, he was greater than even the words of old, the wonders of the light, the messengers he met along the way, the thousands of angels that waited, prepared and armed, it was time to let go. Like a child about to go on a great journey, a mother about to give birth, the pain and the excitement, both have to let go, then the Spirit is set free. She pushes, there is sweat all over her, why do you make it so difficult, the angel is in the corner, she is in for a great surprise, go on  girl, it’s going to be all right. The crown appears, the nurse squeezes her hand, it’s going to be a minute even less, the rest of the body emerges, she has finally given birth. The dot that is invisible, that is only visible under a microscope, carries the history or habits of generations, that invisible dot, would you believe it, I hope you realize this is not made up.

The soul, the friend enters, well a friend always makes you feel good about yourself, even when your up and down, those who are not so friendly leave you with a frown, anxious, and happier when they are gone. It’s going to be fine Solomon says, no moaning or temp feelings, this is permanent, yes, there are those who alert us to all the is harmful, that is because they pass on their own fears, the old soul smiles, he believes it, he knows.

The scales of Justice, what has been the impact of your life, did you reap a harvest of Spiritual love, did you bear good fruit, were you a tricky sort, trying to get the best out it, without given anything back, did you raise your nose as you chided others with your judging, as those in your prayer group said, they are not like us, or did you do what Jesus recommended and reached out. The old soul, a good Samaritan, his life moves on, a gift to another, when the Spirit will get even stronger, amen. Grief, well, if you upset the most high, you have plenty to be anxious about, and grieve I would, but if you bring the light with you, what have you to worry about. Solomon sighed, He will always be my friend.  The last moments they shared, a real good smile.

He’s just like Grand dad, they group around the new born, amazing, tears in their eyes, amen.

Toxic Waste

Toxic man. nothing worth stealing what do you imagine he, they will do, she raises her nose, it’s out from her face. pointy, as pointy as her narrow mind, they will steal from us, what else do they want she says, he sniggers, a swingers club, both high on speed and coke, he reaches over the bench, it’s a shared situation, you empty into one, then into someone else, satisfaction and thrill, the elite thrill, well it costs a bundle to get in, you have to be seriously perverse, she is a socialite, he’s an aspiring politician, used to be with the clan, till he founded his own hard line group.  Quentin Tarantino, with real life without the flash of the pyrotechnics and the over hype, good old swing time, no talk of global warming, no immigrant nations, no internet, a lot of closed countries, cruel dictatorships and plots, assassinations, eighties america, God a thought, religious groups with control, talks of wars, the right wingers, and the threat from the liberals, toxic waste, dangerous, damn it, they even hate war, have they no idea how to protect the nation, he rages on, his ear against hers, he is carrying on with another socialite, passing on his hatred, some guy.

Don’t you believe in Jesus she says, all giggling, high as a trapeze artist. he reaches and snorts, not unless he has money he laughs and is american. They both break into a furious bout of laughter, I never heard that before she says, her eyes are pins.

Thirty years later, he is a respected politician, well, he bought opinion and reputation, and sided with those who were defenders of the nation, so called. Meanwhile, The heavenly power they assumed never existed, it’s been awhile, is being felt in many places, toxic waste disposal unit, he finds himself in jail, his friends are getting seriously nervous too, they are supposed to, he sold out everyone he knows….

Remove them sighed Solomon and replace them with righteous leaders, amen.