Too Devout For Me….

It’s not easy, and eternity is a real destiny, the words of old and the habits of some, they are too devout, do you see the way they pray, we’d never go that far, then the heart twinkles, and you get a reminder of heaven, there are healings, the sky, the patterns in the sky, even the numbers. reminders, there is Heaven, and these are reminders that’s all.

Solomon watched as some built walls and the others who built bridges, one view was entrenched, the other wanted to encourage and is divine, way some folks are more inclined towards love than others. As for security, what is more secure than a real world love that never fails. Solomon had prayers answered, encountered the angels, there was nothing to prove, Heaven is real, I hope that isn’t too devout for you.

Did they ever imagine it; those leading the way, encouraged daily, with the prayers they uttered every day, thoughts of heart felt wellness, were

lighting the path. Ironic sighed Solomon; One side was critical of the others, each fault finding, that’s too much some would say, the habits or the practices. Perhaps, all those disagreements were ways to get people to notice each other, same way a rebellious child causes a nuisance, amen.

The Throne Room

He shows his guests around the fabulous drawing room, it’s filled with art works that you usually see in museums, he purrs as he explains; well I bought the Michelangelo when I made the deal for the..I bought the Van Goff a year later, the guests edge closer to the paintings, they want to get the smell, it’s overpowering to be surrounded by such power, well, the art pieces are not worth fifty or a hundred million, even if there are those who will pay the price, it’s the feeling of supreme authority, the fever of power, it’s so stimulating. In the company of such a power filled human being, it’s intoxication, and Mr Power knows this too well, and now that he is getting older, showing off to his friends is one of his hobbies. Did you see the way they react he says later that night, when all alone with his butler, his wife left him for the golf instructor a few years before.

While they gurgle with excitement, each of them wanting a private audience, this man can change lives, all they want to do it is imitate him. Change lives, change my life it seems, their mantra. Imagine, the lives we imitate in the pursuit of happiness. Solomon sighed, a happy breakfast; in the company of friends, food cooked with care, and no shortage of refills when the coffee is near the end. Solomon made tough decisions in his time, but there was one decision he had no choice over, the night the Great Spirit arrived, proof of divine help, the ultimate award. The riches of this world will be coveted by others, but the riches of Heaven, will be,

a love that is shared. Old Mean bag and his trophies, would leave a legacy of resentment, nothing more, as sure as sure is, when he moves on, those left behind, will gladly spill blood in order to get their hands on those trophies.

 

I just Growing up…

She sits in the chair, a little subdued, the medication, she sits while she waits, she is not so sturdy, they gave her a diagnosis, the memory disease, well, it’s an age thing. The limbs don’t have the same stretch, your energy isn’t what it was, the eyes not a clear as they used to be, the appetite too, not as appealing, getting old they said, Mable sighs, I am on a journey, I’m not giving up, I am growing up. A mind of her own, her own ideas, she didn’t beleive the blarney of men in charge, thanks rubbish, who filled them with such stuff, who. She fought her life seeking equality, now the journey has brought her to the care home, at the mercy of those she railed against, those that followed the rules. A nurse approaches, Mabel frowns, the pills, the last time she refused it, they sedated her a whole day, and gave her god knows what. I was just forgetting stuff, doesn’t everybody do that. How much do so many hide inside their heads. How those playing games would change the topic once the questions got testy. No one is allowed question the experts.

Solomon smiled, the story he heard on the radio, the lady with the mind disease, all she wanted, treated me as I am, it’s not your pity I want. Getting old sighed Solomon, we just want to be accepted. The story is never ending, it’s just a change in circumstances, one day you breath, the next your a bird, flying somewhere. Do birds worry when they wake, do they reach for the medication. Mabel, she is a living being in a fast changing world, so fast, the time to look after her is no longer left to relatives, the world so busy, it can hardly look after itself.

The weather, warm and sunny, no one rushing, the only que at the ice cream van, mabel recalls the days of old, how everything that a mother could do was done, same as it always was, by mothers across the world. There is a bitter taste in Mabels mouth, its’ not the tablets, its the story in the paper. The role of women, whitewashed from all circles of importance from the beginning of christianity, then copied by other religions, framing the mind set, bastards she sighs to herself.

The lamb

 

he shares easily and she knows it, he’s the lamb on the table, he is the meal at the end of the day, whoever provides the resources wins all the accolades, the reaction to the doner as temporary as an umbrella on a rainy day, once the rain is over there will be no use for it, once the money is gone the same reaction will be disappointing again

, the lamb never knows until they have him, and then he is gone. Life is like that sighed Solomon, impatience then assistance then deliverance from what there was, depends where you lie at the moment, are you a farmer or are you just another ram. The expression was a surprise, it wasn’t something unexpected, but the mask fell from the face, he could see clearly behind it, this was not a place for lambs, neither was the city for the new arrival or the refugee.

society was layers of folks, each trying to get to the next level, once the resources were secure, they were no different to those they complained about, it was something human and it was not very humanizing, amen. The face of the deceiver, could be a lamb one moment a demon the next, did everyone change as soon as the situation improved, the only thought more of the new lets forget about where we came from, was that it, amen.