Thank you for your thoughts/comments/sharing.

This particular piece was written some time ago ... the mundane is not much more than a fleeting memory .. transcendance has long since begun.

Within the hand of our Father,
Such things do not carry any weight of a bewitcher.

Eyes wide open all of the time,
Easily spots the puddles of slime.

*smiles warmly*

Thoughts flying left and right,
Somewhat like an out of control kite.
Higher and higher, they fly on the wind,
Body strung too tight, filled with images entwined.

Am I the only one who sees these flying tails?
It all screams to me: “it’s in the details!”
Try as I might to get around this jumble,
These thoughts are creating nothing but a loud mumble.

Mind filling in the gaps with random meanderings,
Wondering what all of this colony brings.
Proven worthiness time and again,
I refuse to remain where everything is mundane.

S*** or get off the pot,
Do it now, before you get caught.
As I always say, time reveals all things,
Don’t ever forget that I will always have my angel wings.

Jezebel Incarnate,
Eyes flashing like garnate.

Too easy to be decieved,
When one has never lived.

Within the hands of Christ
It is not so easy to be enticed.

*smiles warmly*

Thank you Bill.

*chuckling softly*

Once again, spot on.

Thank you.

Thank you kindly.

It seems to be running at break neck speed,
Don’t know if it is running away, or just running from pure need.
Racing, racing toward the unknown,
Straight out, hell bent and like a cyclone.
Looking here, and looking there,
It is clear that the senses are totally aware.

Does this break neck speed have a purpose?
Or is it really worth all this fuss?
My engine revving day and night,
Keeping my fires burning strong, and bright.
What I know for sure, and without a doubt,
Is that this journey has its own route.

Uncontrolled and at a fevered pitch,
At some point it is possible to end up in the ditch.
I will do as I have always done,
Stand tall and proud, and act as if I’ve had loads of fun.
I might be bruised and sore and covered with dust,
Yet nothing can diminish my unbridled lust.

“Get over it,” I will tell myself,
Be nimble, and bouncing, and free as any elf!
Ready, willing, and always able,
To lay my cards, face up – and on the table.
“Deal with it,” I will most likely think,
Knowing I have been saved, once again, from going over the brink.

Indeed.

Again, I see you are familiar with the permise to which I speak. Kindered.

Thank you.

You bless me with your willingness to share of self, and similar paths. Thank you.

It came as quite a surprise to realize the door was like a safe.
There I stood, quiet and small and staring forward, like some homeless waif.
Where had this monstrosity come from?
I wondered in hushed tones.
Finally, realizing that it was of my own creation, deep within my bones.

The realization sent me into a frenzy, hurriedly I began to spin its heavy dial.
Yet every time it came to a stop, I was again left with a sense of denial.
“Open up dammit!” I started to shout at this hardened, impenetrable face.
Until I could spin no more, and crumpled in exhaustion, once again in disgrace.

The presence behind me began to poke and prod at my senses.
It kept shouting at me until it finally broke through all of my defenses.
I wheeled around and faced it down, finally acknowledging its presence.
Once recognized, she began to speak to me with her time honored eloquence.

“Shh, my lady, my friend, my soul - slow down and listen for the message.”
I stopped dead in my tracts, once again getting in touch with my spirit.
“Ah, yes..” I heard the wise woman respond, deep within my soul.
Finally understanding that this safe was, just one piece of the entire whole.

Quietly I listened, while I turned the dial very slowly.
Happy to hear that presence finally, begin to respond very mellowly.
Soon the smooth rotation of the dial began to reveal the truth,
Like some long forgotten, finely aged aromatic, vermouth.

As I listened, the series of tumblers began to fall into their appointed place.
The wise woman once again held me in her comforting embrace.
No longer frantic, attempting to force a truth from the hidden answer,
Knowing that what I really need, comes when I continue to be my own dancer.

Try as I might,
I can’t seem to get to the point where I say “It’s all right.”

Events of the past, never taken for granted,
Indicated that this would certainly last.

Yet here I stand,
looking over my shoulder at an event that was unplanned.

Thoughts of the woulda, coulda, shoulda swirl in my mind,
Until the reality and fantasy become intertwined.

Each day it continues and I seek some relief,
And yet nothing works as I continue to live with my grief.

You said so many things that I took at face value,
And now I’ve discovered that most of it was untrue.

I was always honest, up-front and more-often-than-not a tad blunt,
never believing that you would pull this kind of a stunt.

And now all that is left is unfinished business,
it causes distress,
when unable to express,
trying to suppress,
this unfinished business.

Thank you. :-)

Living in Man's World

A Puppet, A Pretty.
A Trophy, A Prize.
She had yet learned to Despise.
These things: Living in Man's World.

The Lies, The Pain.
The Truth, The Escape.
She was beginning to learn how to Hate.
These things: Living in Man's World.

The Tailspin and Headspin.
Being Lost and Alone.
She learned of Survival and Strength,
and not to Bemoan.
These things: Living in Man's World.

The Need, The Gains.
The Direction, The Control.
She Finaly began to learn of Her Soul.
These things: Living in Man's World.

And now She is Her.
No More and no Less.
She has learned to share it,
with Style and Finesse.
These things: Living in God's World.

I make a mean NY style cheescake, from scratch.