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.

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Eternity

The world is beautiful, people can be ugly, that’s all, the less of the Spirit the more difficult it becomes, the more harm the more cynical we become, the bigger the hole the easier it is to fill, the small pal the light the smile the gentleness, melting hearts and second glances the nurture, the expectations inside the Spirit rises, the neighb

urhood demons the hurt of others, the constant pressure holding out waiting, the disappointment the first slap the hurt, patience what was I doing so wrong, that TV and what is was showing me, it was just a case of imitation, the big fear the other voice the worry, the threat of violence and the tension on the heart, the struggle to be yourself and strong, the emotional hurt the feeling of being undeserving, the assault on the spirit the physical threat, the watchful eyes of God’s angels worrying, what have they allowed to go on, this Spirit is from the talent pool, it does not go unnoticed, and if they put a price on it or help for it, there is going to be no special enquiry, Solomon wondered what the blazes they thought they would get away with, it did not impress him one iota, beyond comprehension they better have excuses ready, dampening the Spirit at a time such as this, who were they getting instructions from, demons.

The child becomes a worried boy, the fiery spirit becomes wayward, stubborn, how did he end up like this, he is encouraged by angels who arrive in town, there is a call going out, you better mind the children all of them, there are sudden changes and great wonders, a form of panic sets in good choices are made regularly, the Spirit of God is pouring out, the words of Jesus fill the hearts an awareness, the changes are constant as the spirit continues to rise, Solomon sighed, he only had to write it a thousand times, amen.

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.

Open Your Heart

Are you listening, are you too absorbed in yourself to hear, is all you hear your own voice, do you wonder when you read the headlines, can you feel the pain that is felt. When you pass a stranger on the street do you nod, acknowledge, do you carry on down the street, have you forgot the  man begging on the street, when is the last time you opened your heart, have you joined one of those perpetual complaint groups, do you smile a snide smile when you see those above you fall, do you take pleasure in the harm others suffer, are you listening. When was the last time you did something off the cuff that was just good, have you practised all those great sentiments you tell others about, or do you hum inside when they listen to your voice, are you a complete airhead, all noise and no substance, well, when did you last open your heart.

I was hurt he said, he was a bastard she said, recriminations,

so I joined a help group instead, and made a career out of it, when you could have opened your heart and did what Jesus did, forgive, even went to the cross to get the point out, don’t bring the baggage with you, it will drown you.

Solomon smiled, the fingers were ripping across the keyboards, well they always did, he didn’t have to make it up, just let your spirit do the talking and watch the magic emerge. Open your heart, there are so many blessings waiting to be poured out, don’t fill yourself with resentment and hatred, we don’t all eat meat, and sushi is interesting, porridge too. We are all made to be different, same as those flowers, and the birds, wake up, amen. He encountered the Great Spirit, the seal of the divine, it is there, you need to clean up the inside and learn to forgive, amen. Open your heart. If another does you harm, relax, God settles all accounts, and with all the outpouring of Spirit, there are many quaking in their boots, believe me, amen, smile, this is just the beginning.

We are lights

The young man asked the prophet, what are we supposed to be doing, there is so much written, and I find…it’s all confusing, even when they Speak of Jesus, it’s hard to understand it. The old prophet sighed, it was confusing, no doubts, some interpreted in the narrow sense, by the words of men, others, read it line by line interpretations

, some said he wasn’t human at all. How come the church refers to purity, and perfection, all the time, it feels as if it’s beyond us, and it seems to contradict the words of Jesus. The old teacher nods, men make it extremely difficult for many to understand.

As you rightly point out, Jesus had to eat, sleep, drink, rest, do what we all need to do, got annoyed with his followers, gave out to those in authority, and was often in the company of those deemed undesireable, and many complained because of this too, he didn’t have it easy.

The young man nods, he wasn’t having it easy trying to understand it all. The teacher is trying to encourage the willing pupil, recalls the Great One, who taught them with stories. Was there a fitting anecdote he could use. The parable of the seeds came to mind, at least this young man was willing.

How about this the old teacher says, consider yourself a light, with your thoughts and actions you throw a light on life, and what interests you. The young man nods, so the more we think good, the more it becomes real, the old teacher nodded, well, that’s one way of saying it.

Letting the secrets flow…

Having troubles, demons around, had enough, want to do something about it, “Joe the Slink” wears a sly grin, a member of the green mafia, an Irish outfit, he is passing on advice to a new member, there is the sense of desperation for anyone who wants to join, so Joe wants to impress the new member, give him a signing on present, same way they give you a bonus when you sign on for war, well, unless your medicated how else are you supposed to kill someone, you have to fill the head, get rooted as they say.

Man of poor reputation, throws the goodwill, gifts, suddenly, he’s all right. Joe the slink is no different, we wants the new recruit to have a happy first day, so he asks the new Member, “Sean, is there anything we can do for you he says”. The boy smiles, they are the words he wanted to hear.

“My Mother wants to get rid of demons and she says all you have to do is pray in the Name of Jesus, for someone good to pray for it, and your prayer is held, can you do that Mr Slink, please!”

Joe has got a dilemma, the kid is asking him to commit suicide.

The boy goes home, his head down, sad faced, Joe wasn’t able to pray for it, what will he tell his Mother, I failed.

“I told you they were all the same didn’t I!”

 

 

Mexican Stand off’s, Berlin Walls, and Donald’s tweets….

Let us in, the emigrants roar, let us out the voice soars, where’s my candy shouts Donald, are they listening, who communicates in sound bytes, and thinks it’s communication, it’s the same as a cattle driver whipping up the sheep. So many strings being pulled, the markets in turmoil, insider information being used, just trying to fool us all. you can’t dress like that, what did you expect, if I go out like you, everyone will ignore me, catch 22, who is going to sort out this. Books, the wisdom within, and the pressure from social media, that fills your head, where will you get the space. By the time you figure it out, you’ll be in your seventies, meanwhile they will be all laughing at you, why did you bother.

Solomon sighed, where was simplicity, so many ways to get rich, it’s usually a case of using others, sometimes it’s talent and skill. There had been great events, Miracles, the unexplained happenings in the Sky, world leaders talking gibberish, just like one of those comic movies, who could believe it. Feed the thirsty, look after the aged and widows, care for children, don’t be greedy, and be kind to your neighbor and don’t judge, the wisdom of Love, do these things and God will be there too. Instead, ego’s chasing the headlines, sorrowful outpourings that will be non stories within a day, it’s a world going crazy sighed Solomon, in other places, not at home. The number of great wonders pointed out to great happenings in the Heavens, remain firm he sighed, it was all happening as said in the ancient texts, amen.