Sunday, December 25, 2005
In the glow, colors are clear and fine
Snow falls down to cover
Every shape makes wonder
Anything in the way is wrapped
In dreams from clouds were angels napped
Sleepy eyes make form from time
White crystals a restful rhyme
Footprints in the snow
Prophets pattern in the cover
No one knows these feet from Thine
Why they came and why they brother
Born to lift the light on high
Like a diamond in the sky
From heaven they fall
Now they gather
On holy ground
The Child is matter.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
There are only so many logical conclusions a person or a people can draw upon. Knowledge alone does not extend the possibilities, and we permutate to escape the obvious, Truth. When truth is evident then comes the obligation to create icons and laws that generations will hopefully uphold. In this idea religion, and culture are born. Sin became a necessity to test the hypothesis of man - to prove him both fool and victor, the explorer and valiant hero, who over the ages over and over again saves himself and his people.
A mind run rampant can't know truth, only approximations there of. Occasional the light is seen, the eyes widen and a stab at the rational becomes momentary release from abandonment. This is the definition of mankind who has forgotten the rules laid down by countless ancient generations, who were set free from their own vanity, only to be reunited with self bondage and despair. Heroes, kings, presidents and popes are no less fallible When you live in the age of dead leaders, there is chaos and small personal victories amount to nothing because they are rarely shared.
Media, a modern curious marvel turns the sharing of these personal victories into profitable commodities. The idea of another's struggle comes across as entertainment, a diversion from one's own mundane life. Rarely do we suite up with the armor of knights to forge ahead and slay dragons unless there is smoke from hungry nostrils pouring into our homes and hearts. We continue to pay bills and mortgages and homage to spouses come and gone because there is no other way. We are surviving, not living, because we have forgotten truth.
An aged revered lady dies slowly from a cancer, both personal and cellular. She slowly accepts the inevitable and is angry that her life is ending. Her equally aged husband is upset that his normal limited existence is changing and he must adapt and give attention to the person who can no longer provide the simple comforts of a clean household and a warm meal. He does not see a failing mate but the loss of a normal life with the slow passing of his wife. This is vanity personified. It is just as painful for people to change their lives as it is for others to loose theirs. Have we forgotten the laws of truth and the responsibility that comes with it? Or do we succumb to a sin that leads us away rather than within.
The choice is ours. The mother's children are born over again and return to nurture while strangers take the place of soul mates who are equally failing.
Grace was introduced to marijuana and she accepted it out of desperation for relief of nausea and depression. Medicinal doses will help her breath and keep her spirits aligned by removing doubt and agony – to wit, anxiety. Since Grace is from another era she looks upon the street drug as a degradation of self, not knowing that modern culture embraces it as both escape and reassurance. Those who love her hope she can learn to use this life sustaining drug. It has removed nausea brought about by chemo. It will open up small capillaries that are already collapsing and allow blood to flow. The need for oxygen from a machine will be diminished and her self assurance will be enhanced. Medical marijuana can be a necessary life sustaining reality. And the overall experience remains one of those personal victories that can't be shared except with those who care, those who embrace the Truth.