World Slows Down

Can’t sound it, sound, action to her, affects inner harmony, will I get up, she glances at her I-phone. To others it seems extravagant, to her its a diagnostic tool, she’s a trainee. Irritating, will I. Her shift starts in, she dips her eyes on the phone, she is precise, a trainee surgeon, doing the steps. Her fingers are long and graceful. Where they have been; last evening, inside the chest of an elderly man, noise disappears, music again, continues reading. She lives in a three room, ignoring the bathroom; everyone has one of those, as vital as a healthy rectum, a healthy mind, the article she is reading.

She reads the reports, everything medical is her news, her life is being donated to helping others, if lucky she will have a family along the way. The Corona Virus, she had been reading about it; a virus that doesn’t react to conventional drugs. She thinks of Marie Curie, all the other scientists, who spent their entire lives researching the future; few of them had any interest in patents. Planes have slowed, people are staying away from crowded places, some wear masks, they’ve been doing that in Hong Kong for ages; some call it the the last plague. She sighs; as a woman, she wants to be seen as a mother in the making, a precious human being; she is tired of the way they trivialized the flesh, could they not have learned to love a little more. She takes a deep breath, the operation she has in front of her is her first full heart transplant, she assisting. Calm, slow, her hands are so important.

In an office, a whiz kid press’s the buttons, moves funds from the Cayman’s to Cypress. He loves it when it”s uncertain, so many to take advantage of.

Seeking Perfection

She has shoes with holes, it’s raining, the toes squelch, she can hear the noise, she walks even slower, she is embarrassed, doesn’t want her friends to know. A dry table, a place to sit, a cup of tea or coffee, a few minutes to sip,

to rest, to feel normal, is like seeking perfection. Her home is now a dorm, her needs are met, you could call her lucky, her doctor tells her she is all right. A little mental instability, it spiraled, she lost control in a rage, picked up a bottle, lost her home, an apartment, when they sent her to jail. Lucky girl, it was one of those modern facilities; a case of a little business, when the Government farmed out the prison service, how you farm out care, is one of those mysteries, in a world seeking perfection. $$$$

Solomon read the old story tellers lament; the lack of literacy, and the inherent problems that it causes, and how its’ revealed in the prison population. No one cares said the old sage, it’s been like this for ages and gets worse as time lengthens. So many worry about the perfect smile, are the teeth straight, how can I get my lips to pout, do you think it would be better with highlights, the hair, do I really need a second face lift; choices.

It’s how you spend your time; seeking perfection, its’ the eye of the worrier, amen.

Every Prayer Counts

 

Every prayer counts, and some prayers had added value, the exploits of the early believers and the old prophet’s clear evidence of it, cannot be denied. So Solomon was praying for divine help for those tonight and today in the middle of this Spiritual war of souls, call it a pep talk, Solomon needed to remind himself everyday, there was no force stronger than God Most High, and no evil spirit had any power or potency of any sort when confronted with Holy Spirit. Across the world, there were men and women on their knees, who did not give up on Faith, who needed more encouragement than any others, their prayers hit the spot, and their spirits needed that lift. He didn’t need reminding, there were those who believed in no God Most High, there were those who would gladly suck what they could from this world, regardless of consequence or coming generations, and there were those who wanted to exhaust themselves on the pleasures of this life, without concern for anyone, and there was evil spirit, that would go on doing what it tried to do, even in the face of God Most High, despite the signs that told them to mend their ways or else, Solomon was putting the seal on it, ensuring he never forgot or others, he was writing it down, amen.

Dedicated souls every day did their thing, some in very dangerous ways, Solomon was asking God Most High to throw his loving arms around them, they have families too, their children, their wives and husbands, their friends, it was not a time to lose, it was not a time to forget. Without others who laid the path, none of us would have made it this far, Solomon just wanted to remind that’s all, amen.

Surviving Childhood.. Music Helps too..

 

Darn, the dreaded past, the harmful memories, the lingering anxiety, the built up anger, how easy it is to get upset, darn, did someone mention childhood again, does it ever stop, the heart cringes, did I really think that. Some guys have all the look, and hatred can last forever, well, if you saw the look on her face, Solomon could not beleive it, she can’t be feeling this, not now, married for twenty odd years, a few children later, the divorce, and hatred, he is getting younger while she is loosing her figure, how unfair is that, the new one is full

of beans, she has no children of her own, and now she wants to mind yours. bad enough loosing the love, but loosing your children too, man, how many children have family issues. Open the papers, the amount of celebs and the difficult upbringing they had, we all listen while they fill the coffers, are we all that mad, seemingly.

Solomon put a brake on the climb, waited for the world to catch up. The demons were in a hole and the more they struggled, the more crap they found, about themselves, not those they had undermined so succressfully for so long, let it continue prayed Solomon, well, the visit from the Real Spirit, brought a wealth of insight an entire university would have trouble figuring out, so why worry. To know that life is a stepping stone, meant there was a further step up the road. As the Prophets were told many years ago, the soul goes on a journey after the body passes, and it’s a great buzz, seeing the wonderful future ahead, not the dreariness some allude to. Survive childhood, those tough days, are the shovels you need to dig the garden, nothing more, trouble is, there are those who make a rich living reminding us of all that is wrong, and they seek victims same way a heroin dealer needs bodies, amen.