A wisp of air, a thing that keeps us breathing. A most precious thing, or a myth of religious sect and children's tales? Where is that thing that cannot be defined, but yet is talked about into the eternity. Oh where lays the soul?

Squishing in rubber boots you get to jump in the mud. A puddle filled with rain water after an early spring flood. Watching the ripples dance across the water. Then it settles back down filled with a muddy cloud. You  can play wet hopscotch and no one minds the mess. When you are done the sun just comes up and dries it up anyway. Your clothes are water proof so you can just stand in the rain, and they will be clean and good as new in no time. So on to the next puddle, skip and hop and splash. If you leave muddy prints and splatter everywhere, it can look like a weird form of art. So once more back to where the fun began. That is why puddles are so much fun.

The streets are all rainbows and the sun is Yellow and bright. The day of darkness is passed and tolerance has prevailed at last. Children run and play as parents watch on. There is no back ground noise to drown out the laughter. Trees reach to a Crystal Blue sky as cars go by in silence. The air is crisp and clean and you can see the mountains in the distance. Ships rise from the ground and ascend to the heavens. The earth is no longer scarred by the cuts and gashes of people looking for things that we need. The children of tomorrow are filled with great promise as each one lives free from hunger, want and disease. Where is such a land, is it a fantasy or is it where we now live and it begins with you and me.

When the shadow of the world is over you and the giants seem to tall to defeat, on bended knees I seek my strength. With a hope of things not seen, I call upon Jesus name. I plead for intercession and his healing touch. Though the enemy builds a strong hold, I know that it will come crashing down, for my foundation is laid upon the solid rock and the enemy builds on unstable ground.

On a hill far away on a very dark and sad day, a man was counted among the transgressors. I watched as he gave up his last breath and listened as he said it is done. In that moment I saw innocence killed for nothing that was worthy of death. When his last breath was drawn, I understood that I was guilty of his  blood, and that I had to die with him in order to live again.

Oh my soul grows weary as my body refuses to live. I rise from the mortal coil and failed shell of what I was. I see the dark bird waiting for me. A harbinger of things to come, I succumb to the icy grip of the inevitable. With it's dreadful CAW I feel my soul slipping onto dark velvet as the wind rushes through the feathers of my bearer. I am taken over the veil and beyond the horizon. I now find rest as the CAW echoes in my ears, my eyes see the mortal realm fade and my body fall away as I look into the darkness and see the vastness of the stars. I can now see the place where I am waited for as I go to my new life, carried on a Raven's wings.

Laying on a blanket by a roaring fire under the Milky way. I reach and hold your hand as a night chill comes over me. You roll close to me and I can smell the hay in your hair from the wagon ride we took just a short time ago. The light of the stars shines like a thousand jewels as you and I embrace. I pull up the blanket over us and I listen to you talk about each bright star as you drift off to sleep in my arms. I lay silent as you slumber, I can hear your heart beating and listen to you breathe. I focus on the brightest star and make a singular wish, that this moment beneath the stars will never end.

All of these things messing with my head. The bad influences that keep me up in bed. All of the haters that won't go away. The things I have to deal with everyday. Trying to live my life above the fray. On top of it all is where I try to stay. It hurts just to try to live, I am not sure what else I can give. I say I am down for the struggle, until everybody wants to take double. I wonder what difference I can make? All of the people talking at me, they are all fake. I just want to keep it real, but I am getting even more confused the deeper I go in. The static is getting into my head. Living like this much longer, I will go insane. I need someone to hit the mute button, if only for a day. All I am seeing is sorrow in my life, I cannot find the joy no matter how hard I try. The life I am living was not by my choice,  I get lost with all of the haters, creating all of this background noise.

Life is a wisp of smoke and a vapor that we must endure. Life passes too quickly and then we come to the end. As the leaf that falls from the tree, so we live and then pass. Our sorrows are only for a moment and our pain is only for a time, then it is gone. In anticipation of a better reward we live this life and look forward to the hope of tomorrow. That which is for both sorrow and joy passes as our mortal vessel dwindles and fades from the stage of life. We come and then we go, as the changing of the Summer to the Fall and then to Winter, this life and it's suffering it is only for a season.

From Sudan to Maine, from Cuba to Canada, we all live on the same earth. We breathe the same air and live under the same sun. We are all born naked, cold and hungry. We all have hopes and we all have dreams. We are all the same under the skin. Our differences are learned from our elders, we are not born with disillusionment and hate in our hearts. We are taught envy and resentment, as children we all play and we all cry the same. So why do we want to **** each other? What makes us want to end our sisters and our brothers. When we stop for a moment and consider the truth, we are all the same, we are human.

Sparse rendering of things that you want to say. Ideas translated into pen on paper. Emotions can be rendered but not always. Sometimes speaking with no words is desired. To see the face of the person you wish to speak to, and to let them feel your emotions. Sometimes this is all that is necessary, no long prose is required, no great written script. Only the exchange of what is known but not spoken between two hearts and souls. For sometimes, words are not enough to communicate what you really feel.

Fields lay golden with wheat and hay. The air has begun to be crisp in the morning. The days are getting shorter and the moon seems a bit fuller. Pumpkin plants have put forth chutes with Green melons forming that will soon be golden, then orange. The leaves have begun to fade from their vibrant Green. Flowers in the field have turned Golden as the rays of the sun disappear a little more each day. Fields full of corn are brought into the barns and farmers begin to store up for the winter. All things are changing slowly, festivals are beginning to take on a different hue. Summer dresses and sandals are replaced by sweaters and boots. A transition has begun as the harvest if brought in.

I went to sleep and woke up to a different dawn. The sky was no longer blue but a bright hue of Gold. The birds came to the window and said good morning to me. I walked out of my house and saw the wonder of the sky. Two suns were rising one behind the other. Three moons were setting, each a different color. I felt the grass between my toes and saw that it was silver and white. The wind blew past and I could smell Gingerbread and cake. I saw a man in a funny had and asked where I was, he asked me where I would like to be? I walked down a smooth glass path surrounded by bright colored flowers, each had a unique scent and followed me as I moved. The distant mountains were pail Grey covered in Silvery snow and there was a Ocean that was crystal clear. Such was the wonder of this world that I decided to stay and live in my fantasy.

When I see her walk in the morning light, I am lost from this world. When I lay beside her, I cannot breathe for fear that I will awake from a dream. When she touches me, I lose all sense of time, for that moment is all that exist. When I hear her speak, my heart skips a beat. When she says I love only you, I crumble inside. No one knows what she truly does to me.

When loving a woman there are things that you must understand. She is like a flower one moment and the weather the next. You must sometimes treat her delicately and others be prepared to weather the storm. You must know how to listen and not speak. You must nurture her and be strong for her for she will need both of these things. You must know when to let her go and when to embrace her. A woman is a mystery that creation made and no man will ever truly understand. You can only give her love and patients and sometimes that may just be enough, but does anyone truly know how to fully love a woman?

The heavens go silent when the lamb sheds his tears. The angels become somber when he weeps. When his children disappoint him, his heart is broken. He cries because he knows he cannot come again for our sins. So when the rain falls out of the sky for no apparent reason and the heavens feel like they have gone still. Stop and ask what you might have done that has gone against the fathers will.

A faded flower sits in between the pages of a worn out bible. The first Coronation that was ever given by a true love. A picture of a new born child in her mothers arms, sits on a writing desk. A pair of bronze shoes sits beside them. Crayon marks line the wall, for each inch of growth and every month of passing life. A pair of satin shoes sit quietly on a shelf next to a prom dress that has been preserved for a first dance. Now in linen and lace, a new bride soon to be wife waits in her bridal chamber for her last walk as a daughter. Such are the memories of a well lived life.

Lightning flashes and wind howls, the dark clouds blot out the sky. Some people may fear the coming of the storm, but it can make me feel alive. While others cringe in fear, I look at the wonder of natures hand. I see the lightning as it breaks the horizon in bright flashes and watch the dark clouds in hues of Black, Silver, Blue and Grey. It is simply an angry portrait that sometimes must be painted. A beautiful masterpiece, of beauty in a storm.

A sapling reaches for the sun, it's leaves stretch out to draw in the light. It grows up inch by inch, pushing up and putting down roots. As it expands and grows, the rings that it creates capture a little bit of time with each passing year. A record hidden from the naked eye is captured in the heart of the tree. It is said that nature doesn't remember, but that is not true. The records of what has happened and who we are surrounds all, we just do not want to take time to see what the rings have remembered.

I saw you in the darkness one cold and snowy night. I did not know I would find you. I only knew what was right. Though I didn't know you, I lent a help hand. I offered you safety and a way to get back home. In one moment you were there then in another you were gone. I do not know who you are or where you came from. I only know what you needed and what had to be done. I gave you back your life and sent you on your way. It is my hope that you one day would do the same. When you find some lost soul, in a dark and terrible place. Please be their light and send them on their way. If you will do for them, what I did for you. Then the light of kindness I show you in the darkness, will never be put out. This will make the world a better place, of this I have doubt.

Scars on my wrist and ankles from more than one time with a razor. Some people say I am crazy, others think I am lazy. They say I do not have the will to live or die. I just sit and cut some more and let them wonder why. I want to feel alive, I want to feel normal you see. No matter what I do, I just walk around in a haze. It just doesn't come and go, it can last for days. When I cut the places that I have let bleed before, I feel something clearly. The pain drives away the fog and lets me see what others see or at least that is what I think. Perhaps one day I will go to far, but for now I will just let the cuts speak for me. For they tell a story that I never could you see.

Oh the sun never sets on the British empire. While it's elite get rich off of the backs of it's subjects. The bureaucrats craft their ideologies and implement their plans. All boxes are checked and everything is grand. Wait a moment a hick cup as occurred, a baby name Charlie Gard a name you might not have heard. The bureaucracy says that we shall just let him die, while mum and dad sit by and can only cry. The horror of the bureaucrats to take our child from us. The stress has become awful, it is just too much. Despite the attention that has come from abroad. The American President, even the Pope has gotten involved, but no there can be no help, no where or why. The socialist wankers of the European state say the baby has to die.

Waiting patiently adorned in white, made clean by a crimson flow. Working diligently in the field, to plant seed, work the ground and bring in the harvest. The bride waits unto perfection, for the day the prince will come to claim his own. A marriage made of sacrifice and labors of love, for some even unto death. Then in a moment appointed, the father sends his son to claim his betroth. Bought by a thing more precious than Rubies, the lord of the house will come with a crown and glory. His bride pure and ready to receive him, as the bridegroom which is Christ comes to bring his Church home.

When I see Roses in full bloom, I think of your lips. When I hear a bird singing I am reminded of your sweet voice. When I feel the soft breeze blow past me, I am reminded of your gentle touch. When I see a dark stream flowing, I am reminded of your deep Blue eyes. When the sun comes up, I am reminded of your warmth. When the moon comes out, I am reminded of how mysterious you can be. At every waking moment, I am thinking of you and I am reminded how glad that I am your in love with me.

On a barren hill some Romans planted a barren tree. Rugged and stripped of it's dignity, the tree bore fruit you see. The seed was with in it, though it had no branches or boughs. The blossoming of eternal life is what grew. Between two other trees precious blood was spilled, oh what a harvest it did yield. When they cut it down, it began to spread, the roots of the tree went beyond the barren hill into eternity. It brought forth salvation you see and produced the Rose of Sharon that bled for you and me.

To write the words that you feel can be difficult. To open up and let your inner self see the light of day can be treacherous. There are many who may not see as you see and may not understand what you want to say, but to keep silent is not as nearly as bad as letting your voice be heard. While many think of what they want to say, when you pen your words, you speak from your heart and soul to many others. While self expression is a risk, it is a risk worth taking if you have the courage.

Sitting quietly by the seashore where fishing  boats go out before the dawn. Waves and cold wind wash on to a Jetty and make you feel alive. The summer brings new people, but they never choose to stay. When the leaves turn and winter comes, they quietly slip away. Time moves at it's own pace  and people change little in this place. Everyone seems to know everyone else . As the seasons come and go, Christmas is a special time, when family and friends gather together to celebrate unity. Hard work is called for to live, but compassion and caring make life worth while. Such are the joys and challenges of living in a small New England town.

Primal fear grips the soul of any who dare to leave the safety of their familiar surroundings. Fog rises from the marsh and the ground as the night takes hold. The darkness fills in the gaps and lets the imagination run wild. Terror fills our subconscious mind as we conceive that the most terrible evil awaits us in what we cannot see or understand. So we cringe in a corner or in a cave or perhaps under the covers hoping that the evil not see us. When it truth, we ourselves are the most dangerous thing that lays in the darkness.

What is your motivation, what is your cause. What makes you passionate enough to die for it? Is the suffering of another enough to make you want to give it all? Is the price of freedom what you are willing to pay in blood? What causes you to move forward even up the steepest mountain? What will make you crawl over the sharp broken shards of adversity, until you are bleeding and shredded to reach your goal. What is it that makes you an unstoppable force that will fight no matter what the cost. What is it that drives you?

The room is on fire as we ignite the night. Our hot bodies course together like the waves crashing against the rocks of a distant and forgotten sea shore. Writing like a tree in the storm, we embrace and let our passions burn. You are inside of me body and soul as I give my life back to you. Give and take into one another's eyes we stare. Deep into our souls we open the doors to let life have a chance. One gives and one takes but both are giving something. Biting and clawing our way through our ****** entanglement, until the moment we reach Nirvana, then return to ourselves covered in the sweat of raw ****** energy. Each of us exhausted from the giving of a part of ourselves in both the physical and spiritual as we seek to go into each other as deep as we can so that we can make something beautiful by planting a seed that will grow and bear fruit. As passion becomes pain and then life and love.

When it is my day to go on. When I have had my last moment in the sun. Look on me kindly and remember only the good things. Forgive me for my faults because I will be leaving them behind. Do not shed tears of grief because my life is done. I will have lived as best as anyone can. Simply smile and bid me a quiet goodbye and remember me in your own way. I will not be sad or lonely for I will have peace you see. In a new adventure I will let all of my cares pass away, as I learn the eternal truths when I move on.

Standing on the corner of hopelessness and despair, there is a house with shattered glass windows and a cracked stone walk way. It is often dark with little light making it in. Inside you will find the floor littered with the tattered remains of aspirations and hopes. Once vibrant goal now left abandoned in a dark and desolate house. An empty shell of a building, where you can find anything and nothing at the same time. A place where lives go to die a little at  a time, inside the house of broken dreams.

There is a place where all sorrow goes. Where the tears of the despondent eventually flow. A river devoid of a single living thing. The river of tears that is cried each and every day. There is no joy in these waters, only salty remembrance. Things of loss and utter sadness can be found there. So if you ever immerse yourself in the waters that flow with each persons misery, just remember that you will not feel rejuvenated when you come out, but perhaps you will leave some of your sorrow behind, and the river of tears will take it far from you as it flows away with the tears you have cried.

From bruised knees to a broken heart I am covered in the scars that life has left upon me. Some are visible and some are not, but all show who I am. The scars show that I have been foolish and they show that I have courage. They show that I can love and know loss. The scars mark the healed wounds of a life's journey that I am still undertaking. Before the end comes I will face more difficulties and hardships, but with each new experience and each new scar, I grow as a person to become what I am destine to be. So when you see the scars upon my body, do not feel sad for me, for it is my scars that define me.

Just one more boost and that will be enough. I will reach nirvana and then I am done. Mixing the chemicals to get the blend just right. I will be doing great by the end of the night. One shot then two then three then four. I can't remember how to find the door. Completely zoned out with the needle in my arm. Dying to get harm what was the harm. Now you are nothing but a ****** that had noting to lose. Mom and dad find out your dead on the six o'clock news.

A pill for this and a prescription for that, addiction is marketed to us all day and night. If you hurt then you need a pill, if you can sleep then still you need something to drink. People are falling out and our idols are dying. Children are getting strung out from the medicine cabinet at home, the days of the street dealer are gone. Mom and day start them young, a little something under the tongue. A Benadryl to keep the kid quiet, while liquid libation gets mom and dad right. What is the end, where doe it go? How far are we willing to travel down the Rabbit hole? War is not needed when you have your favorite prescription drug, when will we decide that we have been drugged enough?

Chatting, tweeting, snap chatting, and photo bombing, where did we go wrong. Intimate moments have been lost to the electronic domain, we have forgotten how to relate to each other. Emojies tell others what we think and not our own words. We are analyzed by corporate number crunchers so they can market to us even in our sleep. We are photographed and video taped with in an inch of our lives. Our privacy is on display for all of the world to see. Electronic books and blogs have taken the place of a good novel and a quiet conversation over coffee with friends. All of it is tracked and digitally quantified. What if we all unplugged for just one day, would the world come to a screeching halt? Perhaps the brain trust that wants to monitor our every moment would come to realize that we do not want to be face booked to the world and just want our privacy back.

To drink from his cup is to know perfect love. To drink from his cup, is to be part of his family. To drink from his cup, is to accept that he controls your destiny. To drink from his cup, is to share his suffering in pain. To drink from his cup, is to stand in his word. To drink from his cup, is to be crucified with the lord.

All who profess the name of he that is the one. All who say that they follow the son. All who declare Christ is the lord. All who do their best to live his holy word. Persecution will follow us, for they killed our lord. They will revile us and curse his holy word. Some may fall in death but to all who are faithful until the end. A crown of glory will be to those who suffered for him.

In the darkest night, a single candle can chase shadows from a room. In the depths of a storm, one lighthouse can show the way to safety. If we as people will be just one light to another person, the care and mercy that we will give will shine brighter than the sun.

When I am filled with sadness, I call to the heavens. I ask for a down pour so that I can hide my tears. While some people sunny days, I like the rainy ones, it helps me to see the world more clearly. While sun gives warmth, the rain makes things clean. I love the way it is cold upon my skin. To stand barefoot in a muddy puddle and let it squish between my toes, reminds me of simple joys deep down in my soul. So when you want to see the sun and feel a warm and gentle breeze, please don't get upset if I want a rainy day just for me.

From the deepest blue of the ocean a mighty giant rises. Calling into the dark depths then rising to meet the sun, it lifts it's mass out of the darkness into the radiant light in a display of power that is seldom seen. It's haunting echoes call to your soul as you listen in the dead deep silence. Only the sound of the waves churning can be heard from the distance surface world. As you fall with the mighty ocean giant back into the nether region of the abyss from which it rose, the Blue Whales song calls in a unique harmony that only a few can appreciate.

The water is crystal clear and the air is like the first day. The sun shines brightly and war and disease has gone away. Hunger is a distant memory and we all age with grace. We live to see our children's, children's children come to the fullness of age. Sharing is common place and no one lacks anything. We have gone beyond the confines of our world and discovered new things. Tomorrow seem so very far away, but in truth a new tomorrow can start right now today.

If all men were to write down the mercy of heaven, there would be no paper left to contain it. If all were to sing of his goodness, no one would speak again. If every one would give all their goods to help the poor, it would not even begin to equal his sacrifice. If every person prayed every minuet of each day, we could not obtain the mercy of his love. For no height, or depth nor length of time can measure to the depths of Gods love.

Laying down upon petals so soft, fragrant and alluring. Lost in the sublime contentment of luxury and bliss, forgetting all of my cares. Awaiting the one who loves me, my betroth, my beloved. Aching to explore passion on a bed of seduction. Enticing nothing but love and happiness in a place of beauty and peace. Wrapped in each others arms as my lover finds me, content to surrender while sleeping on a bed of Roses.

Confections built up as mountains of pleasure, Almond milk enriched without measure. Solid dark to milky light, oh what a sweet lovers delight. In the back in a cool dark place, sit the Coco beans waiting to be given their place, processed and mixed with sugar, until it is just so sweet, oh what an oh so tempting treat. So little by little, some of the confections go missing, just a few items here and there, nothing really worth mentioning. The only real clue are small foot prints that lead to a tiny whole, what could be taking away the product do you suppose? Then one day a well placed trap captures the proof, on a video take the Chocolate thief turns out to be an ordinary mouse with a sweet tooth.

On the cross Christ bled for me. On the cross he set the captive free. On the cross he showed the manifestation of Gods love. On the cross, God became man. On the cross sin made it's final stand. On the cross, Christ broke Satan's bands. On the cross he died alone. On the cross he inherited a heavenly throne. On the cross was God's only son. On the cross the fathers will was done.

Around the next corner is something I haven't seen. Under another rock might be a magnificent treasure. Deep inside my own flower bed could like the answers to one of life's daunting questions. When you are into discovery and make your life an adventure, you will never know what you will discover next or where the journey might take you.

A pleasure that you have never known. A treasure that you could never find. A feeling of comfort and assurance that is mine to give. Devotion beyond understanding, with loyalty that is unquestionable. Such is the gift of my love.

We see each other every morning, but you only smile and pass me by. The scent of you takes my breath away, I cannot find the words to just say hi. I want you to see me, but you look right through me. I try to look nice when I know that I will see you, but you don't seem to notice me at all. No matter what I see to do, I must accept that I am invisible to you.