be still,
           be the small silent
                                        calm

be quiet,
       be the small watching
                                        mouse

be pliant,
               be the seed
                         spinning on
                     the wind

be memory
                  be the glint in
                             the wise old
                elephant's eye

be wisdom,
                 be the paradox of
                             the monkeys
                      three

be kind,
            for kindness needs,
                               to never be
             lost or neglected

be strong,
                 be passionate,
                for the world needs
                                strength
              and compassion
in order to grow.
                

but above all,
                      be love.....
            and allow love to be...

in all it's ....
        wonderful,
          guises and capacity's

and these my son,
                are just some
    of the steps

       in being a better man.....

incandesence...
                     muted...
by the ravages of time.

sitting oh, so, carefully,
                               darned,
                      designer clothes.

still hauntingly beautiful,
                                          but...
more haunted,
                     by beauty lost....

elegenty arrayed,
                      trying to hide,
sun blemished,            
                   wrinkled, skin...
                                        away..
behind a mask,
            ..of make up
                         and geneality,
                      expertly applied

conversely,
doing more to display,
                              than deny,
the decades of living,
that had sailed....
                        blithely on by.

mutton....
            dressed as lamb
and mutton...
                 led to the slaughter
as she awaits,
             the loving embrace,
of her exquisitely beautiful...          
                                   daughter.

and while she does not...
                                 begrude
her daughter beauty....

she despises herself
              and the world she
                                   inhabits...
the world in which
                             beauty
is the beginning,
                         the middle
                              and the end.

May the words from my lips
Be uplifting at best
If not, may my words be few

Let each and every one start
Deep in my heart
When it comes to loving you

For you Lord are more than worthy
Of the praises that I bring
Let my tongue fulfill it's purpose
In bringing glory to your name

So as this day progresses
And opportunities do arise
May my words lift up those with both heart and soul
As I see all through Jesus' eyes

"we are learning to ...
fish in the river of sorrow"*
Faith Sherien

this has been a year of
hard lessons.....
of trying,
again and again,
to perfect the the cast
to catch, cleanly,
the fish of loss.

to split it open,
and seize it's innards...
the stench, the messiness,
the ichor, the guts.

to scale the skin,
rough, cutting scales,
little tear shaped discs.

to eat of the flesh....
chewing, chewing, chewing
on the hope of afterlife.

and picking the bones clean
of delicate, delectable memories....

hard lessons,
too many this year,
yet all a part,
of a fishermans journey....
down, the river of sorrow.