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Of Religion, Spirituality, and Nothing
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. Whatever your belief or non-belief (to say you believe in nothing is still a belief system); whatever deity or non-deity you look toward for guidance, comfort, or even out of a sense of obligation, is a personal choice. It is a choice that no other person, group, or government should…
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Poem – Questions
Questions litter the sandy ground like fallen leaves curled and brown. I walk around them, careful to not step on unanswered questions. For now I am the winter solstice plunged into the dark, avoiding light until the next transition arrives. That path I place both feet upon now crumbles with each step. What do we…
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Doors
As one door closes, another opens. An old saying, yes, and for the most part makes sense. However, I like the idea that, when one door closes, there was already five open. In the midst of a transition as I take stock of life, I am opening many doors, and with a child-like curiosity, peeking…
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Great poem about where anger comes from, and who has control.
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Pain
Pain is a nasty companion and sneaky. Weeks pass with no sign of him or his shadow. Then he visits. But gently. Starting with a morning headache, slight. Some throbbing, moving through each hour of the day. And the first day stretches into another as a restless nights sleep compounds the consuming constricted veins that…
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Over Lunch
From a distance, over breakfast or lunch, I sit and watch. I listen. Taken in by the environment, I am anonymous, no one special. I do not stand out. Here is what I see: People hiding behind cell phones, showing affection to the beautiful glow of the screen and downloading apps; intense conversations working toward…
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Poem – Death
This valley is filled with death. Take a step back… how did I get here? A few lifetimes ago, I came upon an ancient river flowing through Babylon and I drank from the waters, I drank so much that I fell into a deep sleep and just woke up 37 years ago. I am unsure…
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Transition – Chaos
I have spent many hours the past few weeks, in quiet contemplation. Setting aside books, news, papers, pen; I allowed the environment, consisting of the wind, rain, snow, temperature, sun, moon, bird calls, raven squawk – any event to rummage around inside and surface an emotion or memory. Years have passed and some memories are…