moe-tif

i am but a note sitting upon a page of music that both delights and saddens…
a melodious sound that evokes both pain and joy, love and hate…

i am but a word sitting amongst many in a story that has no beginning, no end…
a book that entices the Reader to turn page after page, never knowing what will happen next…

i am but a stroke from a painter’s brush, sitting upon a palette of many colors…
i know that my hue graces His canvas and that i am a part of a great work…

i am but a breeze left over from a great wind, a small drop of rain…
from a great storm that has crossed over the fields of humanity and left it’s mark forever…

i am but a small part of a larger scheme…so small, yet, i am so important…
He treasures me, seeks me out, as he does all my brothers and sisters…

you are as i am…small, seemingly insignificant, yet…not so in His eyes…
we are cherished, loved without condition, treasured beyond all reason…

there is no reason other than pure and complete Love…
we are this and more, simply…we are…simply…

i am… 

She stood at the fence quietly surveying the scene before her….
armed guards holding back the surge of people fleeing death, poverty, oppression….
She noted the arrogance of the soldiers as hoses were lifted to spray at the screaming crowd…again…
Mothers shielded their children, fathers stood defiant against the torrent of water…
She felt a sense of deep loss standing there, just far enough way to feel only a few drops…
the lack of compassion complete, no sense of humanity was evident as soldiers followed their orders and,
families followed their needs…whole communities torn asunder as the power wielding few destroyed what was once…
great…
What had been lost was a concept deeply buried under apathetic self pity…the comformist’s web had been spun and freedom’s very essence had been bled dry…
Even the soldiers had been blinded…their souls pushed deep into wells of self righteous ignorance…
the power of many, when gathered and organized, is as strong as steel and a thing to be reckonded with…but…
for the power of many to be realized there must come an awakening…a rising of indignation and a demand that changes must be made…will be made…
she knew this as she quietly stood watching her people; black, white, brown, yellow and red…
she remembered what once was and was again stricken by a deep sadness…oh, if only they would stop fighting…
if only they would learn to fight as warriors rather than victims caught in a mess of angry self reproach…
she stepped back from the fence and climbed a hill to sit again under a high oak tree…
she waited for the children to gather and then began telling the stories of days gone by…
she knew that in these children a spark would light and a longing would grow…
dignity and grace, which is present in us all, would stand strong again in their hearts and minds,
and the fighting would be replaced by the quiet certainty that freedom was the one thing belonging to them all…
a birthright that would once again reign supreme over any greed for power or prestige…
the time is at hand…the fighting will end and the awakening will be complete…

all of 12 goin on 25…
she’s my right hand…
stepped up to the plate when the men i chose couldn’t/wouldn’t…
life’s been unfair to her before she had a chance to know the difference…
guilt racks my soul…she forgives me…i haven’t forgiven m’self…
she speaks her mind, too much like i was/am…
we butt heads, stubborn to the core…
my beautiful first born…i love this kid so much…
no one has the power to make me as angry…or fill me with as much pride….
when all i remember is being told i didn’t matter…
how do i see past this to teach her that she does?
so damn tired…so damn determined, nonetheless…
i am her mother…i can and will do right by her…
but…sometimes…it’s too much…so tired…
want this life to calm down…even out…so i can focus…
give her…and my other daughters, what they deserve…
a mother who is there for them….
but…sometimes….this mother would like…if only for a little while…
someone to be there for her…

when is honesty the hardest to swallow?  when you have to be truly, totally and completely honest with yourself…when you find that your next step cannot be made without taking that long, hard look in the mirror, only to face layer upon layer of work still needing to be done…work in progress, yeah, we be that but, we don’t face that…it is what it is, until we bring all our mess of emotion and judgment to the table…if we were to peel away the heartbreak we’ve “decided” to experience, if we could detach ourselves from the emotional standpoint of the situation, whatever it may be…could we still consider ourselves human?  or, would we be at the standpoint of Spirit?  would we retain some semblance of compassion for the ego facets of ourselves or would we simply turn our backs and walk away?  i dunno…nor am i meant to know at this time…i can say, however, what i hope…i would hope that the compassion remain intact…that we look upon “ourselves” with a loving kindness that is borne from that divine place in all of us, outside of us…that place that is us…to the point of this post, or is there a point?  perhaps these musings are simply the attempt to capture a momentary glance into why it is we would lie…to each other and, to ourselves…what is the point?  who are we trying to fool…in the end, one way or another, it all comes clean in the wash…why tolerate the stains we create with our untruths when the honest truth is so much so the best way to go?  difficult tho’ it may be to face oneself…the walk into the fire permits the rebirth of greatness, if only we can summon forth that strength to bear that sweet pain…burn away all the facades we’ve taken so long to build up around us…make the vulnerable in us strong so that when all is said and done, all that is left is all that truly matters…all that is left is the real, most venerated part of who we are…Divine…

just ran a mile and a half…my feet are killin me…that’s the price i’m paying for years of distance running…i don’t want to stop tho’…it’s different this time…i’m not training to beat a competitor…there are no crowds cheering, no coaches screaming…no…nothing…just the quiet of the night…
there are trees surrounding the track i run on…it’s a junior high track which means it’s made of dirt…reminds me of when i was a skinny little 13 year old, running like some kind of crazy chicken in circles…Coach called me Stevie Wonder because i moved like him…took me a lot of work to correct my form…once i did, running took on a whole new meaning….
i had so much fun…even while i was bent over from the pain of a particularly hard work out…i loved competing…i would visualize the race and in every one, i was a hero…kickin ass all over the track or cross country course….but….
what stands out for me now are those races and workouts that transcended competition…there was something so peaceful that would come over me at times…i believe it was due to either the weather or the area i was running in…if we were running in rain, i would be transported…i would fly just because the energy i felt was so intense…i love the rain…or, if we were running up north or someplace with nature being the constant, i would feel that same sense of joy/freedom/peace…it’s what i’m beginning to feel now…in the quiet of the night…i hear the traffic in the distance, i hear the breeze through the trees and, i hear something else…don’t know how to describe it…i think it’s something that is always there, patiently waiting for us to listen…i’m listening like i’ve never listened before…

i am a warrior…my battle is not for material items…i don’t seek power or prestige…i seek peace…the pure serenity that comes when all is lost and everything is gained…this war is not won with weapons and death but, with persistence and quiet…with the presence of Spirit and the absence of hate…my battlefield begins and ends inside of me, the struggle of years running blindly through dark forests of brooding pain and choices made with bad intentions…and then…i breathe…

i am a warrior…my mission is pure…i stand alone in a crowd and i smile because i know that with this battle’s end, i will have held the world in my hands and i will be free…and i will move forward, teaching those who want to learn…those who are ready to take the warrior’s path…the way of the Peaceful Warrior…

I’m not looking…but someday I know I will find him.  I’ve stopped searching for him…but someday I know I’ll look up and he’ll be there.  My soul does ache but the ache has somehow subsided…someday I know it will be replaced by a joy indescribable.  I am complete within myself…someday I know I will connect with him and he too will be complete.  Someday I will be with a man who can sit by my side and not feel compelled to fill the silence with talk.  Someday I will meet a man I’ve know all along who will walk wooded paths with me and breath in the smell of pine with deep appreciation.  He will rejoice in the simple pleasure of a well written piece and will be moved by music created from the heart.  He will dance with abandon, he will work hard and he will play often.  Someday I will be with a man who feels deeply and is not afraid to share what he feels with me.  He will lay his head on my shoulder and sigh and I will feel his spirit be calm.  Someday….

Her eyes sparkled, like that of a child.  Her hair was silvery and long, her face lined and weathered….but her eyes, they were the eyes of youthful innocense.  Her laugh was full and came from deep inside.  She sat in her chair, underneath a tall oak and she told stories to anyone who would come.  Most of her audience consisted of children, although, time and again, an adult or two would saunter over and spend time listening to days gone by.  She bore a wisdom that was hard won, through a life filled with what life is always filled with; joy, pain, laughter and tears.  No regrets were carried in the undertone of her melodic voice.  Life had been full, life was still full and her Spirit was content.  Her journey had been exciting and, she looked forward to more excitement to be had.  And so, she sat in her chair, looking out at the world from under her tree and she told the stories of days gone by, knowing that those days would come around again for the listeners to experience, in their own time.  Her only hope was that they would take all of it in stride…life simply is what it is…just as it was what it was for her…and once this knowledge is grasped, life is indeed good…all of it. 

there is a place i want to go to…
it’s quiet there, but for the trees blowing in the breeze…
i’m all alone…if only for a little while…
i sit upon a boulder looking out over a valley of deep, pine green…
the air is crisp and cold…i breathe in deep and smell nothing but the trees…
no expectations…no place to go, no place to be…
no one to count on…no one counting on me…
if just for a little while…

Something is lost here in this mighty place…
unrecognizable our land from sea to shining sea…
we are a broken body with scars too deep to erase…
we no longer know the meaning of what it is to be free.

We’ve willingly traded liberty’s sweet song…
for what we’ve been fooled to believe is easy gain…
the devil throws his head back laughing at the throng…
of souls gathered around our country’s blood soaked stain.
  
We send our soldiers to die for our country…
we would claim to support and yearn their return…
yet, what reward do we extend for their tour of duty…
when our homes are lost and lessons go unlearned?

We reach to the one we would blame for our demise…
we would take him and force him to show his face…
and the shock of what we see behind his clever disguise…
sends through us waves of a deep and profound disgrace.

We will be forced to look upon a truth unbearable…
yet bear it and learn from it we must…
in the end, to create our new beginning, we must hold ourselves responsible…
for the guilty party ultimately and always is…us.