New Light

The eyes glow, there is movement inside, there is wonder, there is hope, there is light. The power of words in the heart, the nuggets we hang to, same as the story of Christmas, the signs, the wonder in the young eyes, there is a sense of meaning, something new, the evenings maybe dark but there is light ahead. Two thousand years ago, men in long robes, riding the desert horse, they follow the star, they know something great is about to happen. What did they see, what was it that took them on such a journey, why did they follow the light in the Sky, how could they have known.

2,000 years later, the same wonder in dressed in silly rules and regulations, that more often than not, throttle the hearts of so many, on account of the disastrous wars fought, over “Love”.

Solomon sighed, the evening was a vision of light, he saw the wonder of talent nurtured, the fearlessness of the shy spirit, the hope that gives us all, only God can explain. Solomon hoped, that those who were in the role of Spiritual guides, would learn the lessons of old, and stop putting unnecessary burdens on their flocks. Compassion, gentleness, kindness, for these are the type of sacrifices that I want, not the sacrifice of old, amen.

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.

Write or Listen

The anxious writer is frustrated, like a junkie seeking the hit, the dealer is late, and he is getting upset as hell. He moans in front on the machine, darn, where is my inspiration, the stuff sends him into another dimension; allows a fertile imagination to go places, some light, mostly dark, where is the dealer, his nerves are at him, in frustration he thumps the table, I need my fix, shit, I will get a new supplier, frustration, he teeth chatter, he is feeling the withdrawal, he has to produce some words, he is a writer after all. Where do you go, he refuses to put words on the page, he is waiting, words, me, me, me.

To listen these days sighed Solomon, is so rare. So many want the attention, can they ever listen, the big man with the power, a junkie for attention, demands, takes what he wants, and worse than that, expects to get away with it. Where is this humility these believers are supposed to have, it is written in the books of old, a little respect. The husband who bosses the wife, sits, where is my meal, darn good cook though.

Write or listen, Solomon smiled, he heard a voice call out the Holy Name, he was heading home, to his temp abode, he laughed inside, the words of old were on many lips, and people were listening. To imagine, a gathering of folks, all sorts, listening to the prophets, wondering what Jesus was going to do next, while all Jesus did through his life, was encourage the kingdom of God, on earth. Listening is good too.

The junkie writer gets the hit, he launches into words, that will impress them he thinks. Jesus, just told the truth, amen.


He went to the aid of the poorest, he lived with the outcasts, ate with the despised, asked forgiveness of everyone, gave himself for sacrifice, endured abuse and treachery, constantly encouraged love, sent us the prophets when he left, warned us of what to expect, sign posted the devil, just about escaped temptation, became as human as you or me, performed miracles, gave others the same power, gave certainty to the reality of divinity, left an example to follow, told us we’d be born again, accepted our failures, warned us of governments. Martin Luther King, The Apostle, Joan of Arc, Che Guevara, Peter, Paul, James, John, Mother Theresa, Oscar Schindler, the list is over powering and truly humbling, why did he bother, because he loved and always will, understood us better than ourselves, always has, and we question his teachings today, as the saying goes, whoever has done better, please stand up, silence, amen.


The Birds

Noisy busy overworked wrong turn cul de sac turn back, traffic anxiety medication can’t get enough trouble, constant pressure depression stress puzzled and muddled, trying to do the best trying to hold on daily, another day hope no doubt love perhaps need a lot more, children mental schooling teachers traumatised everyone misinformed, accidents planned hospitals crowded everyone over reacting, escaping aping therapists suicidal human nature tranquilised, refreshing working habitat for the birds only and the fools, oh what a beautiful morning birds singing loudly again, excitedly they burst into song wondering about the next episode of the human, best soap opera out there and no getting away from it either, as everyone living gets a part in the greatest show on earth, and we thought for all those years that we were being ignored, imagine that, the birds are in the ringside seats and we are in the coliseum, Hitchcock would have been proud…. sounds like it’s for the birds after all