Glimpses of, What might have been, Nightmares of what has been. Days spent in restless anticipation of fear, nausea, hope or despair. —— Hating my own hair and teeth, revolted by the marks on my flesh, loved by someone who stands by me Day on day, hour on hour. —— No criticisms or judgements, no… Continue reading P T S D
Tag: hope
Sacred Sunrise
The candles burned brightly in the temple, repaired the curtains and ordered the day, while down in the fields a body, dead lay. ——– Relieved they slept through a golden dawn and missed the signs that God was about, missed the glory of dying being bested. ——- The sun burnished creation that morning and made… Continue reading Sacred Sunrise
Grace in the Waiting
Dissolving margins take me deeper into the desolation of the soul, with each moment long, I find my life weariness increasing the hole in my thinking. ——– Tears thicken in my eyes where the sight is strained by searching, my heart is like a rock as if the spirit’s flown leaving me lurching on its… Continue reading Grace in the Waiting
The Gower Pilgrim
The steps of ancients have walked this way, searching out for easement of earthly sorrows, seeking souls to bring to an earthy paradise or expiating their sins with hunger and sorrow, opening a way for newer treads of modern soles to journey through the patient places of Gower. —— Weary living brings the purposeful pilgrim,… Continue reading The Gower Pilgrim
A Sacred Moment
interrupted my daydream with a loud, clear call
The Trumpet Call of Spring.
( or Hope Denied) The saffron centred crocus shone against the dark earth, petals gently unfolding inviting the invasion of light and insects tending their pollen, enabling production of tapestry in grass; and secretly new bulbs grow ready to bring joy and luminescence to the troubled world. ———- Floating on the breeze bees hover, seeking… Continue reading The Trumpet Call of Spring.
The Wise Men
It was slow and cold over the malevolent mountains where icicle adorned camels tread on vague suspicions of trails. Their bitter breath freezing in the air and each of us huddled gasping against the icy blasts. The camps were hard; starting a fire and hiding under the rough rugs and skins, sheltering under the lee… Continue reading The Wise Men
The Coming of Hope
— It was slow and cold over the malevolent mountains where icicle adorned camels tread on vague suspicions of trails. Their bitter breath freezing in the air and each of us huddled gasping against the icy blasts. The camps were hard; starting a fire and hiding under the rough rugs and skins, sheltering under the… Continue reading The Coming of Hope
Christmas, what’s the point?
The lonely are lonelier, the poor – even poorer, the weak are slowly weaker, the spoiled are so spoiled. And there is a place where you are either outside or in. And no- one asks you to enter. —– The sad are even sadder, the glad somewhat gladder, the fearful – more fearing. The workers… Continue reading Christmas, what’s the point?
The Pilgrimage of Life
My long legs reached to the farthest shore of my being, shoving and pushing through the muddiness of rejection, and the sucking swampiness of my serious certified sickness, each step a challenge of my spirituality of distinctiveness, of my direct thinking to wonder at the great unknown, and still I’ll move, ever my blurred eyes… Continue reading The Pilgrimage of Life