Burn the ground and leave nothing behind. Tear down the trees and the buildings. Level the mountains and flatten out the hills, release the molten rock of rage. Lava pours out of cracks like ooze from a festering wound. The earth trembles and quakes. Nature takes hold and sets the balance again, mans interference is not welcome! Wiping the slate clean to let something new take hold. This is what creation and renewal are about, being born from piles of ash and what appears to be chaotic destruction. Nature scorches the earth and cleans itself up so that it can start again.

When there is something to say and it cannot wait. The words find their way out onto the page. When passion, pain and rage flow through the pen, expression becomes reality. When it can't be contained any longer and becomes as a fire in your soul, the need to create takes you over. You become enthralled in the ecstasy of the moment and passion grips you in a fever pitch. To write is the only option, as you can no more deny the words life than not take your next breath. It is in this moment that you become the message, when the words seem to write themselves.

I was asleep and I began to dream. I saw a magnificent kingdom filled with all of the finest things. People were all adorned in white and the light was brighter than the sun. On a golden throne sat a man with a glorious crown. He looked very somber to me. When I drew close, I saw he was in tears. I asked someone standing by, how this could be? In all of the splendor and wonder, why was the great man sad? The person said that it was because no one knew about him you see. He said people are forgetting who he is and what he did for them. Suddenly I was pierced by the strangers stare. His eyes seemed to beckon me. I walked towards his throne and fell on bent knees. In awe and wonder I thought what could he want from me? He said I know you, you often speak to me. I am glad to see you have come at last, I wondered how he could know of me. I asked what can I do I am nobody you see, he replied oh you have no idea how special you are to me. He said I need your help, I want you to speak for me. I felt full of shame, for I am no one you see. I asked what can I do lord and he said just speak of me, tell my story to everyone you see. So I awoke from my dream filled with a great peace and an urge to speak of Jesus to everyone I would see. I went out on my way and I told them how Jesus died, and I said I know there are not supposed to be tears in heaven, but I told them why Jesus cried.

When did kindness become unpopular? When did mercy get replaced? Why does a straight path not work, when you can see all the way to the end. When walking to honor God, and abiding by his steadfast word, your feet are set sure and you heart is filled with the truth. Giving reverence to others and seeking justice is not a sin. So let us forget some of our modern values and start walking in the old path again.

Today's time is spent and the sun has traveled to the west. Lazy breezes blow across the beaches. Sand washes out to sea and gulls caw above. It is a final close to the curtain that draws open again with the suns coming, to a new tomorrow.

The North star has been true and the trade winds have been a friend. I set my ship towards the west and listen for the ringing bell that marks the way home. The lights of land are not far now and I am weary. The sea is a good friend, but your arms are what I long for. The laughter of children and a place to lay my burdens down lingers in my mind. So as the moon goes low and the sun comes up on the eastern horizon, I look for the inlet that will lead to safe harbor. I come home now to my love, racing on the morning tide to see my home again.

I cut and claw to get outside myself. I wash until I am red and raw. Noting seems to clean away the feeling that I am trapped in the wrong place. I scream inside my own head until I can't even think. Why am I caught inside of myself, why can't I get out. I look in the mirror and my image is mocking me. I want out of this place, but I can't shed my own skin. So I cut and scratch some more, until the blood drips from my wrist and neck or until I find a way out of this prison I am in.

Sent into the furnace of despair, poured out into the flame of proving. Placed under a burden that seems impossible to bear. Wrought by the hammer of tribulation, and tested by faith alone. Made pure as silver or fine gold, a vessel worthy of the masters hand. Polished until you are radiant and ready to be filled with the holy spirit. Only those tried by fire will be worthy of service to the lord.

Drinking from a cup of lust, trying to satisfy her fire, she craves passion and intimacy. You can get hypnotized by her eyes or the movement of her body, her form screams take me even in the dark. Be cautious of her ways, she will consume your strength to satisfy her needs. She is only secure when you hold her near and will not let you breathe, for her need to be filled is so great. Such passion burns like a thousand candles, she scorches the soul of her lovers. She is need incarnate, she is a wild creature, she is insatiable.

Dark clouds fill the skies and a fierce down pour comes along. I dash into the drops of water hurling from the sky! I cannot see my hand in front of my face, nor do I care to! I let the cold down pour wash over me and drench me to the core. I am not looking for insight nor am I seeking absolution! I simply want to be one with the down pour and get lost in the rain.

To give to another and ask nothing in return, this is love. To sacrifice in silence so another can live, this is love. To endure hardship to make things better for another, this is love. To be nailed to a cross for crimes that are not your own, this is love. In all these things unconditional love lives.

There are lots of distorted people walking all around. Words are spoken and don't mean what you think they do. There is a lot of fanfare and things don't quite make sense. Often you are not sure who you even are. One moment you feel powerful and the next you feel numb. You think you can do anything then you find out that you can do little to nothing. The best you can hope for is to enjoy watching the illusion go by, then come down easy. The harsh reality is that you are likely to end up in withdrawal, and if all you need is rehabilitation of yourself or your image, then you were lucky. More often than not you come down hard and are not sure where you will wake up or land.

The path before me is straight and the way is not very wide. It is difficult to walk such a straight line. I often stumble and get side tracked along the way. Despite the burdens, I go on anyway. For you see someone has walked before me and he has made the crooked places straight. I just need follow his footsteps and  I will make it to my journeys end. So on I will go in confidence, walking the pilgrim way. Until I meet up with the sojourner who went before me, in Gods kingdom one fine day.

The foundation of the body is ignored most of all, until we are in pain and cannot walk. To be the feet of something is to be not highly regarded, but is to be of great importance. If not for the foot, there would be no where to kneel at the cross. If not for the foot, we would not have mountains to climb. If not for the feet, we could walk no where, nor could we carry the burdens for others. So when you take a close look at the whole of the body, the feet are of great importance indeed.

Pierced by silence and a longing to be accepted. Torn apart because of rejection, placed in a place of solitude. Forced to regress backwards into the shadows of itself. A soul scarred by terrible scenes of violent emotions. Holding on to a slim strand of hope. A light that seems as thin as a spider silk. A secret desire and a torment at the same time. The twine makes you want to believe. Yet the dark places say let go. In your own cocoon of protection, you contemplate the options. Deciding instead to sleep for a while, then make a choice. Clinging to the thread one more day, hoping it can sew up and mend the cuts and tears in a wounded soul.

All that come into the world must walk a path. At the beginning we are guided by others and circumstance, then we choose our own directions. In the end we all end in the same place, some sooner than others. In between, the things we do are what make the journey. In looking back, we can see a life of service or one of selfishness. We can see a legacy or a tragedy. We do not always get to choose every direction, some times choices are made for us by unforeseen obstacles, but we still have the ability to live our what is in our hearts despite the things that get in our way. So though we all must take life's journey, we still have a say in how we will live it.

If I held the power and could build an army, I would not create soldiers with guns. I would take the young children and begin to educate them. I would teach them to speak a language other than their own. I would raise them to be helpful and to understand kindness. I would develop their talents each and every one. When they were grown, I would send them forth to do the work that needed to be done. My army would be teachers, engineers and healers. They would bring mercy and light into the world. They would speak to others in there own tongue and show them how to care for themselves. They would mend the sick and build new and amazing things. This is the army that I would build.

Under a wide open sky beside a cool clear stream. I lie on a blanket and watch the clouds roll by. From horizon to horizon, no one can be found. I see only sweeping grass and a few lonesome trees. When all things are said and done, would a mansion be better. Would I be happier enclosed by four walls? People amass gold and silver, only to see it slip away. I sit in a tent on a piece of earth. I have what I need to live and perhaps that is enough. If more is required then nature will offer it to me. So I look at the sun as it sets and think of where the feet of many have walked and are now faded. The earth is still here and the are gone. What did they need to live and where is their mark? If not for memories of them, they would not have been at all. So I will sit a while and look at the gifts I have been given, then find rest in a small space that I have set for myself. Tomorrow, I will awaken under the same sky and again wonder, how much space do I really need.

Now comes the night and the veil is drawn to a close. The mortal shell is dispensed with and the final secret is revealed. Hearts stop for fear of the unknown, oh the sword of the reaping has come. In faith some go forth, others in sheer terror. For those who believe, it is but a passing, but for others a horrific tale of woe. At the moment that your last breathe is drawn, you now face the reality of what you hold most dear. All thoughts of family and friends are set aside, all mortal pursuits are forgotten. In this moment, you are tested and made to know a truth. The truth of your own self is brought upon you. When death comes will it sting or bring sweet release. Only the individual can say for sure. The one thing that is certain is that all people will face the end. How that end will be dealt with is up to each of us alone.

You start out with a fantastic plan, then get distracted by teenage lust. You fall into young adulthood and end up with a little you. Your college fund is now your mortgage payment. A minivan just replaced your 2 door coupe and your sweetheart isn't a beauty queen anymore. !2 hour days are your normal routine and your money just doesn't seem to go as far as you thought. Your spring break to Cancun is the last taste of real freedom you had, but you wish you could remember more of it. Suddenly, your 30 and there are now 2 replicas of you. You get up one day and find that spandex in your pants is not a bad thing. The only exercise you seem to get is when you walk the dog that isn't anything you have bought. So you struggle to get back on track, but the rails keep slipping out from under your feet. Finally you enter a crisis that they say happens at midlife, but you think that your midlife was at 20. So at last things begin to make sense, just as you try to buy a coupe again, only to find that you are too wide to fit behind the wheel. All of these things are your fault, your kids and wife had no part in it. When you finally collapse from the exhaustion of all of this, you wake up and find it is only a dream. The tequila has worn off and you are once again 18. In 5 minuets you forget what you have learned, but somewhere in the back of your mind a road map has been drawn. The question is do you follow it or not.

Last night I went to sleep and I began to dream. My spirit left my body and crossed beyond the veil of time. I watched the old world pass and saw a light that was brighter than the sun. I stepped onto a street and everything was clean. The air was clear and I could see all of the stars. I looked into a window and saw a video screen. What was being talked about I could not believe. There were no reports of ******, nor was there any war, only images from people living on Mars. I saw children playing and having a parade. It seemed unreal to me. Then I looked around and saw the city lights, I jumped up and took my spirit took flight. I looked over the earth and saw how it was lush and green. I didn't see any factories spewing out pollution. I looked for a hospital, but one could not be found. I only found a small building where people are healed for free. I watched and listened and found what amazing thing had been done. Science had accomplished the impossible, all sickness was all but gone .In a moment I felt myself being pulled back to where I was asleep. I woke up and felt so empty. I wanted to go back to what I had seen. I then realized that the world I saw was yet possible and tomorrow would begin with me.

When my last day has come and I take my last breath, do not look for my name to be written in effigy on some great place. Do not look for land marks to commemorate my life. For you will find none of these dedicated to me. Instead look for the homeless that now has a place to live. Seek out the hopeless that now has a reason to give to another. Find those in need of guidance that now speak with wisdom. Find the stranger that was wounded and left in the way. For mine is not a legacy of great acclaim, but a simple journey taken in the fathers name. While no great fanfare will celebrate my life, my legacy will speak of me for all time. Each time someone knelt to God in prayer, giving thanks for the stranger that was there. My name will be remembered at the fathers throne and through out the heavens it will be proclaimed, when at last I make it home.

Standing in the starlight looking into your eyes as they reflect the moon. Watching the horizon as the night fades. Dancing barefoot on the cool earth with you in my arms, I do not want the night to end. As the sun begins to break the veil of night, Shadows begin to fade into morning and your silhouette becomes mysterious and beautiful. I pull you close and look at your face as light and dark cast shades over you. The sun and the moon are in equilibrium and you and I are balanced and in love. I savor the moment as the shades of night fade and the mornings new light separates shadows from day.

On this piece of ground, I have found my rest. In this hallowed place, I am now at peace. Under the stars and stripes I was brought home. Now I lay quietly, for my battles are done. So when you pass by, don't be mad if I don't say hello. I am at rest so that you may be free. I am laying quietly waiting for others to join me, on this piece of ground.

No matter where we are from or who we believe is God, all us of are the same under the skin. When one of us uses violence on his fellow man, the other bleeds red the same as you or I. If we stop for a moment and discuss why we must fight, then perhaps we can understand the others point of view. For now let's set aside our guns and swords and listen to another and hear what that person has to say, before anymore red blood is shed.

In the still of the night someone cries out in anguish and someone  answer the call. A person is trapped in a burning house and they rush in with no thought at all. Their own safety is of no concern, a life in on the line. The code of honor that drives them, will not let them rest, until those who are in peril are safe. Bullets fly all around and they rush in, No one can know what they feel unless you walk a mile in their shoes. From endless nights keeping watch no matter what the uniform they wear, those who rise to duty's call do so without fear. So when one falls by the wayside, all of us are the poorer for it. To protect and serve is their creed, regardless of the circumstances.

Now reach the deep and see the dark blue depths. Wrestle with the spirits of the dear departed. In the locker of Davy Jones now lie my bones. Sand for my blanket and a stone for my pillow. The tide turned against my ship and into the drink I went, now lost at sea forever more. My widowed bride lost me to my mistress, when my mistress became angered that I had wed. So now with a starfish to keep me company, I hear her mournful tears as she adds salt to the sea, crying for her loss as my mistress howls in the winds that come from the soulless deep. Another lost sailor am I .

If by one act of kindness, you could save a life, would you do another with it. If by one gesture you could turn despair into hope, would you live each day as hopeful as you could? To save one life does not take great courage, it only takes the will to help. When you see a person who is almost at there end, an act of kindness or a show of support can give new found strength and hope. This simple thing can save one life that can touch many more.

Slowly drifting down on deep still water, I hear a Loon call. I look towards a bank where Spanish Moss hangs from a tree and I see turtles laying in the sun. In front of me an Otter races through the water chasing a school of fish, as a Crane wades among the Cat Tails along the river marsh. Frogs croak in the shadows as they hide on Lilly Pads. Ducks splash in a creek feeding into the rivers deep cold waters. With no motors or electrical means of motion, I take in the beauty of the river, with just a simple paddle and the respect for the life that can be seen on a quiet journey down the river.

In a city filled with want and streets full of despair, children sat idly with not much to do. Then someone came alone and ask do you like to read? Then a few books were given out. When young minds were opened and imaginations began to grow, the world changed over time. Those who had noting in which to believe, suddenly became aware of a world outside of their own. As they grew their love of reading blossomed and a city once dark became full of light. Hope took root and poverty and despair were driven away. Knowledge became empowerment as barriers were  broken down. Education came from a book that changed everything.

Despite what makes us different, I offer you my hand. I will be a friend to you indeed. Though we may not agree, I will be there for you. I will always lend a helping hand. As long as you will have me, i will comfort you and offer you hope when none can be found. In all things I will do my best to understand who you are, I will accept you.

As I surrender to the will of God, I wait in silence to see what he wishes. As I watch his plan unfold, I live by his daily bread. The word which is the body, nourishes my soul. I feast on his eternal word. Though through trials and persecution I may go, I will let his spirit lead me into safe havens in the clefts of the rocks and the dry places. There in his presence I will ever find refuge.

A leaf was unsteady on a tree. I looked on as it quivered and shook in the wind. Then for no particular reason, when the wind stopped, it fell off of it's branch. Silently it floated, down, down , down, until it touched the ground. As it fell, it danced in the light, it's colors shimmering only for a moment. I walked over and picked it up and thought about why it fell. Then as the wind picked up, I threw the leaf into the air and watched it dance away with so many others that were blown up by the wind. As if the leaves were people, I gained a glimmer of understanding of how very much we are like the falling leaves.

When I fail and fall on my knees. When I show that I cannot stand alone. When I am at my lowest point, that is when God works through me. In my weakness, he becomes strong. In my meekness he shows his courage. In my times of doubt, he shows his faithfulness. When I stand still, he moves around me. In all of this, he is glorified.

The sun is setting and I am weary. The night is setting in and it is becoming cooler. I am not sure how long I can hold out, I can only kneel and pray. I cannot predict tomorrow, I can only hope for one more day. Perhaps something new will come to pass and things will really change. I will know until the sun comes up so I must hope for one more day. I lay silently looking at the shadows being cast by the street lights outside. I feel restless, but still I am hoping for a better way. Perhaps tomorrow I will receive my miracle, perhaps if I have just one more day.

Is one human life more precious than another? Are people in America anymore deserving than people in Sudan? Why are you in need of special consideration and another not? When you decide that your voice needs to be heard, stop and think of those who have no voice and who's lives are just as precious as yours.

If the ocean lacked any salt, my tears would fill it back up. If I had cried in the desert, it would have become the garden of Eden. With a heart that you broke into pieces, I shed tears until the rivers overflowed. No peace could be found with the way you left me. I have cried my eyes dry and red. I have carried a torch for you way to long. If ever decide to find me, just follow the damp footprints that are stained with the tears that I have cried.

Being able to bend iron is impressive, but it is not my greatest strength. The ability to be humble is what really strengthens me. To be a servant to those who are in need. To wash the feet of a beggar that is strength indeed. So when someone say I can lift half a ton, would they stand firm in the face of poverty and want, or would they turn and run?

The crowds were worked into a frenzy and they gave out the call. We would rather have a murderer than the one that says nothing at all. So they set a killer free and took the one that was as a lamb. They nailed him to a tree between two sinful men. In a short space of time, his life's blood flowed to the ground. With only a few groans and one declaration, his life came to an end. That is when the real amazing things began. The earth shook mightily and the buildings were rocked to their core. At last there was redemption that had not been there before. In the temple there was panic, as the giant curtain came crashing down. The innermost holy place could now be seen from all around. At that moment a new covenant took hold, where God and man could abide. All was forgiven, the day the veil was set aside.

Come to a common understanding and join in helping each other. Tear down walls of separation and hate. Open up the paths so that all my travel at will. Learn to be tolerant and to understand another's point of view. Remove the barriers that divide us and stop judging each other without knowing that person. Come to be of one mind in peace. To live in a world without borders, what a wonderful thing that would be.

There are no hero's on the front lines. No one goes in seeking glory. Causalities are the result of generals and kings who cannot agree. We the soldiers suffer the losses. Friends fall in battle, and there is no fog in war. There are only enemies and bullets flying. At the end, both sides have bodies to heap up. Whether in the streets or on the battle field, there is no clear winner. There are only shattered bodies and those who have survived by some miracle, and have to live on with shattered minds. They relive the battle each day, recounting the losses of friends and trying to understand the cost of war.

I bear my claws and tear into my lovers back. I writhe beneath the warm body that is entwined with mine. I wrestle with the forces of the flesh and cut into the flesh. I tear deeply listening to the satisfaction my lover gains, knowing that I am in both pleasure and pain. I hold fast as I reach passions height, I descend to the depths of wicked delight. My breast heave as I pull my lover tight. I want to be filled with all my might. I dig my claws in one last time. Like a feline on a scratching post, I sharpen my claws for one wild time.

I wait on the seasons to change, I long for the coming of spring. I see the plants hold fast through the winter and grow in the short sunless days. Despite all that I know to be real, it seems kind of strange. That despite the order of the seasons, the harvest comes in the spring. Wheat grows in all seasons, it survives through the winter cold. When all other things are turning green, it becomes golden and must be taken in. So I will wait through the long dark winters and rejoice at the coming of spring. I will rest in the comfort that my labors will bring abundance, as the harvest comes in the spring.

When life does not make any sense and all things seem to be against me. I often get confused and disheartened. In moments when all that I hold dear seems to slip from my grip and confusion is all I can see. I will fall to my knees and become silent. I will listen for a still voice in the storm. In these moments I find refuge and solace. I hold on to the masters unseen hand. When I have no compass to guide me, I will walk forward into the night. For this is when I am truly tested, when faith is all I have.

I bow down in the quiet places and in the hidden rooms. I read from the holy word and make supplication unto you. I seek wisdom and understanding as to why evil must have it's day. I beg of you oh God, why must it be this way. Then I remember what you said in your word. Man does not honor you, we forget your holy law. So I come to you in earnest oh God and upon bent knees, I earnestly cry to you, lord hear my pleas.

Executions take place in the street. The gun has replaced the gavel and the person who pulls the trigger is the judge and jury. No longer are all innocent in the eyes of the law. Judgement occurs in a split second and the trial is held on the nightly news. The after the fact review is of no comfort at all. Families are ripped apart and no amount of money can give back shattered lives. It makes you wonder where did justice go?

I washed my face and looked into the mirror. There I saw my reflection with an evil grin leering back at me. I don't remember having such a twisted face I thought, nor do I revel in wickedness  with such glee. The image reached through the gateway and attempted to pull me in. I fought for a moment, but then decided to take a chance. As I slipped through the looking glass into the other world, somehow things felt familiar to me. I saw the razor that cuts me and the pills that calm me. I looked at my other self and it just leered back at me. I pondered how I could relate, then I tried to touch the other me and it rippled. As it became distorted, I felt a pain in my own chest. I looked back at the mirror and saw myself once again looking at the distorted reflection as it leered back at me with an evil grin. So now I am twice as confused, did I change places with my inner self, or did my inner self change places with me?

Nightmares run through my mind. Evil demons haunt me and fierce dragons taunt me. I am more puzzled than frightened. I sit idly in the corner and watch the terrors unfold. My mind races with images of earthly and other worldly horrors. I simply go limp and succumb to the stress of such things. They want to use my soul for a playground, as my mind is preoccupied. The gate to my inner self is locked and I forgot where I put the key. So I will sit idly staring at the monsters that live in my head and wait for the abiding darkness to get bored and go looking for another place to live.

Though many criticize me, I will endure the scorn. When my attempts to help are mocked, I will carry on. When the world refuses to help and my burdens are more than I can bear, I will find the strength to stand up again. As the Willow tree stand in defiance of the storm, so will stand in defiance of adversity. To mend fences and usher in freedom, even at great personal cost. I will bend and not break, no matter what is put upon me.

A set of hands reaching across the world, let this be our symbol, let this be our creed. One family helping another, building bridges to end want and need. Let us give thanks to one another and not make war anymore. Lets build relationships and tear down barriers. Lets us give our neighbors books and not bullets. Lets heal the sick instead of wounding the innocent. Let us unite and fill the needs and eliminate fear and despair. Let mercy show our true nature as we are united by the kindness we give.