Annointing the Days

God inhales. I feel it; the blind reaction of humanity builds. I await the exhale and the resultant babel. What breath is on the wind? What tides will turn and tables topple? As above so the mirror from below reflects again distortion -- partial prisms: Ganglia twist the view and break the brilliance of lanterened time. Traces of truth, trailing love throw light inside Plato's cave. But here we sit wearing darkened lenses inside our intersected nows, alternating our shadowed views -- sharing pictographed realities. God inhales. The Alpha and the Omega images. The Comforter spreads incense essence. Humanity is lit. Time and Nature obey. There will be an exhale. So be it.

Turn

The sky, timeless and tireless, finds a slanted ray and my New England edges toward burnt umber and cinnamoned orange. The day lilies yawn. Butterflys and dragonflys laze, suckling swaddled nectar. Vigor fills the night air as mums awaken, brisk -- bounty unfurling. A soft haze falls into the day; sky-lit gold shimmers into gloaming as rolls of hay dot the fields and bands play last hurrahs at Hopkinton Fair. The vines, pumpkin filled, surround the sounds of sheep and hawkers. Labor Day, school has started, wood stacked for the burning. Brass kettles ready. New England waits for the crimson edges as summer leaves: Turn.

Herein lies the tail -- quite literally!

The last time I saw Timothy he was making about sixty mph, racing us to the cellar door. He won. What can I say? We leave the kitchen door to the deck open while we barbecue. We first noticed that we had a guest when something bigger than an ordinary spider ran beside Mark and skittered into some remote invisible niche. A frantic hunt insued, with me sighting the mouse under the dining table; he looked to be pausing to turn, and right then he split for the fireplace and the wood box. I screamed, Bob and Mark came running and carried (it's a big copper pot instead of a box)container, wood and all outside. We left it there overnight and thought we had solved the problem. Next came the garbage compactor incident. It no longer works. There has been a Timothy sighting behind and in it. We think he either has a top part jammed or he chewed through the wires. What to do. No poison here with the grandkids and Sugar around, so that was out. Then we sort of got used to having a little guest. I named him Timothy because the grandkids used to love a movie with a main character of that name. It just made the little rascal more personal, more individual, more -- tender. So, just awhile ago I went into one of my drawers for some napkins and to my surprise, there lay about 6 of Sugar's dry food pellets, or whatever you call them. A closer look and I noticed my measuring cup was filled also, as was half of a basket toward the back of the drawer that we use for miscellaneous gadgets. I thought Sugar was alot more hungry lately! Bob is expounding on how he can build Timothy a little house. I told him Timothy already has a house! I just hope he doesn't go looking for a Mrs. Timothy!!!

Today

May your eyes shine with the peace that passeth understanding. May your footsteps be joyful and your heart carry no load but the lifting of love's sweet song. May tears and sorrow flee from you and your enemies turn toward you with understanding. May you forgive yourself as Christ forgave Peter. May you see trial and tribulation as purification and turn your face to the shelter of the Most High. May you abide in our Lord forever.

Sighting the Real Enemy

So there was a serpent in the garden and he whispered negativity and self pride, weaving themselvs into the ages of man. Green tendrils of gossip and confusion spread into tangled snarls and broke the circled hearts; the desert flowers cast off their blooms, withered like the fig tree and scattered into dust. But this is not our fate. Seek the voice of the Lord and find the healing well; sit awhile beside the Rock and cry a sadness, then rise in joy anew! "To all things there is a season." After repentance,Peter was forgiven three times. And we are told, "Love one another as I have loved you."

These Precious Days

Noise and clatter: Webkins and Playstation. Time is spun with the Wheels of Fortune accompanied by water colored bulletin boards, sporting dragonflies and our happy face stick figure family -- sand drawings and playdough elves painted red and green. A mishmash of joy with a ring of hearts, scored and hung on the refrigerator, turns the wheel: We play. "I win! I win!" ..."Na-na-na-na boo-boo!" Miranda paints; Tessa pours the hourglass sand; Julia reads. Mark laughs. Sugar wags her puppydog tail and chases a merriment of balls. God is good.

Are We There Yet?

Hurly gurly, up down, back forth filled, of two minds -- our collective Dorian Gray stories played out in Time. Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the most defined one of all? Destination Now, one in Love with Him, pieces put back together inside the puzzle fit and the picture is 2 and 2 makes 5, parts essenced greater than the whole of us. Humanity rises and falls, but the motive point moves ever now, ever prescient, ever into the presence: I was before I am.