Wires shine like Diamonds in the sun. Taught lines that rise to the heavens, like a mystic bridge to eternity. A miracle of ingenuity, a space elevator from science fiction to science fact. Nations rise up from the dust as vast stores of wealth descend from the sky. Blasting rock has gone silent and poison no longer fills our lakes and streams. Satellites dot the earth as children go to school with others from places far away. Each class has a different teacher that brings unique ideas together to tear down the walls of prejudice and ignorance in young minds.  Forest now rise up where urban sprawl once took up the landscape. People no longer live in prisons of poverty, but borders have been opened and cities now sit deep in the clear blue seas and on the cool white surface of the moon. The air is clean and the sun brings warmth to all who use it's endless light and power. When we take a few moments to set aside our differences and set ourselves free, it will be amazing to find what is truly possible.

Speak boldly and do not back down. Go into the prisons and hospitals to the forgotten and those who despair. Bring compassion and mercy as you join others to advocate. Be the voice to the helpless and the hopeless. Walk for those who cannot. Claw at the door and pull down the strong holds of indifference. Bring strength and determination to the fight. Pick up those who are wounded and carry them with you. Lift up the causes with charity and Thanksgiving. Be the voice for all who cannot be heard.

Hear the sound of shop doors opening, and smell the fresh baked bread. Feel the smooth cobblestones beneath your bear feet as you hear an Italin morning begin. Sit on the beach and watch the Green water roll in with white surf. Sip on a chilled Coconut drink as the sun sets while warm tropical breezes filled with scent of exotic flowers envelops you. Ride across a Dusty Savannah with a camera and binoculars in hand. Pour cold water over your face and wipe away the grit of the sand. Sit quietly in the back of a Jeep and watch a lion pride at play. Take some once-in-a-lifetime photos, as they lay quietly under the shade of an ancient tree finding relief from the heat of the day. Hear the twang of banjo music, and walk along some old creaky boards. Step back a hundred years as you find odds and ends in an old General Store. Look above a small country town as clouds encircle mountain peaks. Listen to a couple of Old-Timers tell tall tales as a old dog and young children sit at their feet. Have a mason jar full of White Whiskey as you sit in an old rocking chair. Soak up the history of a place that seems forgotten, but where the people are friendly and still show they care. Take time out of your life to go out and visit the world. Don't simply hide in your personal shell, bring some of what others have to offer back with you and leave a part of yourself behind. Enrich your self and others lives with new experiences, that you might not otherwise find.

The smell of fresh cut grass and the boys of summer have been a staple of America for generations. Popcorn, hot dogs and the seventh inning stretch defined a part of who we are. No longer does this enamor us, as editorial games of political intrigue have come to center stage. The 3/2 pitch has been replaced with the political sound bite. The crack of an Ash wood bat has been over taken by the sound of a judges gavel. We have gone from watching The Lazy Days of summer pass quietly, too political Carnage that we watch Daily. With the 24/7 news cycle, once Monumental Heroes only receive a few seconds in the day. Unless they're caught in a drunken stupor or have made an unwanted *** tape. innocence has been taken away, and the old Skipper with his hat pulled down has been replaced by teams of lawyer, that argue the will of the people to the ground. So will we ever return to a simpler time, or will we continue to drown in the political mire. When did America's innocent pass time, give way to this political nightmare?

The cover is cracked and worn. The pages have turned yellow with age. The tear stains mark the pages that were read most often. The name of the book has faded and only the word holy remains. Inside of the cover, those who were redeemed and those who have gone are written. Four generations have dog eared the pages and yet the words can still be seen. Just like Jesus my old bible has been broken, so that the world could not break me.

Buildings reach to the sky and glisten like diamonds in the Sun. Streets are straight and Broad, trees abound everywhere. The lands are green and Lush and you can see the bottom of the rivers. Children of all Races run and play together. Highways are open and little in the way of traffic can be found. Nations have no borders and no poor are left behind. The skies are a dark blue as people talk openly one to another. Sickness is no more and crutches Wheelchairs and walkers sit at a memorial that their purpose may not be forgotten. I sit quietly on a park bench and look around at what great things can be. If only others could share this vision of the world with me.

Howling and beying, pulled in among the thorns. The prickly Breyers scratch and cut an unsuspecting Hound that's caught in a rut. Chasing that brown rabbit through a meadow and the grassy field. The rabbit scampers safely into a Briar Patch that will not yield. The Relentless Hound backs out, a skin full of pricker Breyers but none the worse for wear. The dog just sits and beys as the rabbits off laughing somewhere.

I can be curious and I can  be Bitchie. I can be obstinate and I can be loving. I can be uninterested and I can be arousing, so just patiently love me. Some days I don't like the hair on my toes and some days I can't stay inside. There are times when shoes are optional and I want to show my Wild Side. So if you are willing and strong enough to take this trip you see. Then in time you will get to discover all of the different parts of me.

Forgive me for where I have been and what I may have done. See me as I now am, and look at what I may become. Like a rare flower I need to be nurtured, but I can be stronger than you know. Given the chance I will grow into tomorrow, just be patient and watch me go. Stand firmly with me and miracles you may yet see. Give me a chance and you will be rewarded as you get to see who I can truly be.

People rage and rant at each other. Civility has disappeared and has been replaced with anger. We advance so rapidly that we have lost touch with each other. We used to sit and talk for hours, now we tweet and post. In short blurbs and emogies we try to communicate, but we really are not saying anything. Our barrier used to be our language, now it is not trying to understand each other at all. We isolate ourselves and cultivate followers instead of life long friends. Though our social circles may have been small, at least we knew we could rely on each other. Now we do not know who our neighbors are and our own family has become a strange to us. We fight with each other and fight with ourselves. The world is coming apart at the seams. Perhaps it would be better if all the technology went on a vacation and peace were given a chance again.

Take everything that someone earns and give it away to those in need. This is what equality means. Make everyone stand on their own two feet and work to achieve as much as they can, this is what life should be. We were born to privilege and we know whats best for you. Let us tell you what you should do. In principal eloquent speeches may seem surreal, but let us examine each ideal for what it is. Only the outcome of the experiment matters. How you get to the end is hard to say. When the dust settles only the way that works best should be considered. This how you win the battle of ideals.

Why do you look at me differently? Why do I frighten you? What makes you reject me? Have you even taken time to get to know me? Is it because I call God by a different name? Is it because we do not look the same? Is it because the way I dress? These are just clothes and they are not what makes me who I am. They just cover a part of me, they do not reflect the best part of me. So I ask you will you get to know me? Will you open your mind and see what I have to offer? Will you stay at a distance and not even bother? What can I do to convince you that we are not so different? What will it take for you to live and let live? Perhaps you are just too closed off to see what is in front of you? So I ask if you are not willing to get to me, then why do you still judge me?

Shackles around my ankles and my wrist. Iron bars on my windows and my doors. I made some mistakes now I am paying for them. My freedom was taken from me because they say I did not listen to the rules of society. I was born with a boot on my neck,  the only chance I was given I took it. Now what I am looking at doesn't phase me. They can't take away what drives me. I have a place that I live but they cannot see. I have memories of what I have accomplished. I see the cost but I have gained more than I have lost. I was born under the sign of oppression but I have learned their lessons. My family is what is important to me. That is why I have to make this dark journey. Every time I get discouraged, I simply withdraw into myself and I find new courage. They want me to despair, they took away the key to the door and they do not care. All I am to them is a number, my life they think it is theirs to plunder. I will not be denied my place. They sit in judgment but I write my own fate. I was given no choice, but with what I have gained my family and future now have a voice. I lifted myself out of poverty and became the man that I had to be. One day this nightmare will be over, then I will crossover to the other side. I will live life again but on  my terms. Until then I will keep going on this journey, I will hold fast to the dreams I keep hidden in me. I will live through the freedom that I keep inside of me.

I once thought I knew what love ought to be. It was between two people, just you and me. Then I was shown something miraculous, someone who paid a cost. Someone who didn't have to give all to come and save that which was lost. When my eyes were truly open and I saw what God Son did, I knew that there was a new type of love, that I had never seen before. He left all that he held dear to do the father's will. Though he still Bears the scars, he loves me still. For with love he gave his life that I might be redeemed. He showed me a new type of love, one that I had never seen.

When your heart has been shattered and your life is torn apart. when all that you thought you knew is proven wrong. When Love Has abandon you and you are rent into and with tearful eyes ask why, there is a place that you can go. The door is always open and someone will always hear. You do not have to be chosen because God loves us all just the same. Simply give him what is broken and call out to his name. He will take your tattered pieces and bind them each with love. He has a place for those that are broken reserved in his kingdom above.

Once there was freedom then there was none. The ability to exchange ideas has been replaced with intolerance. Rhetoric is hyper charged and vitriol is all that is left. You can not even peacefully espouse your ideas because you might strike a nerve. Political correctness has changed peaceful dialogue into fearful words if some one does not agree with your ideas. So silence everyone but my point of view. Then violence is the response if you disagree with me. When did civil discourse become so convoluted, what is hate speech anyway?

My job isn't going the way I planned so I have a drink. I got in a big fight with my wife so I have a drink. My kids are having problems at school so I have a drink. I got behind on my bills so I have a drink. My family keeps telling me all their problems so I have a drink. I then turn and look down into the bottle, and it sits empty. I'm forced to face the morning sober and my life really stinks. All the answers that I had are gone, and now I'm just left to think. Did drinking really solve anything, I'm not sure that it really did. Though when I wasn't sober, the alcohol kept my problems hidden. So now I have decision to make, do I face my life on my own or do I buy another bottle full of answers?

Try as you might, some people will not change. The Heart Wants What It Wants and will not be dissuaded. Regardless of how wrong it may seem to those from the outside, love can be a hopeless campaign. It may take years to accomplish a single thing. It may be a whirlwind romance or love at first sight. Love may be young and old or it may cross class lines. Sometimes love must be worked for, it may take years to earn. Sometimes it's giving freely and turns out not to be worth the effort. Whatever love turns out to be, it is different for each heart. It can bring two people together or It can completely tear them apart. Sometimes love is just an impossibility, and illusion we fight for but can never really achieve.

Take all the wealth from everyone that has it and give it all to the poor. Change government officials every four years regardless of if they want to leave or not. Assign everyone a job based upon their abilities. Give everyone an equal chance. Train everyone to go to college, so no one is left out. Make every home the same size and dictate that no one can have more children than another. Set retirement for everyone to be the same if they want it or not. See that the bureaucracy works like clockwork and that no one gets left out. Let's give liberalism a try, I'm sure it will work out just fine.

When the journey becomes too great the world will flee. Family will turn away and friends will not be found. I do not hold them to account, because some trials must be mine alone. If I am to come into my destiny, I may have to be tried by fire, but it will temper me. It is god who orders my path, so I must press on. The things that seem for my harm will work for his glory and my good. Sometimes I must walk alone.

I have fought many battles and I have not always been Victorious. My emotions have been shattered and my heart torn to shreds. Some of those I love have betrayed me and some enemies have saved me. Though I have been knocked down I've always gotten back up. Some wounds are deeper than others, but I have always found a way for them to heal. The scars that are upon me are not always visible, but I would not give them up for anything. Though you may not see a warrior, I promise you I am steadfast in my resolve. I do not know what challenge I will face tomorrow, but I am prepared to battle it all. My scars they do not Define me, they simply stand to remind me. When things seem to be their darkest, I will fight my way to the light. I will stand up for what I believe and I will continue to fight. I will wear my scars like a badge of honor and of them I will never be ashamed. The show others what I'm capable of and that if you are willing you can achieve great things.

When the sand is spoiled with footprints, you need only wait a little while. The waves will wash in as the tide rises and it will wash away the past and leave a clean slate for you to start again.

what barrier stands between the heart and it's truth? When a person looks through a focused prism, shades of black and white Fall Away. Vibrant colors appear as driven by emotion. The desire of their heart will glow in radiant light. Love is a spectrum of the rainbow, it knows no race gender or Creed, it bypasses hatred an animus to give the heart what it desires. So in a world that is cut in the Hue of black and white, love is the dazzling Spectrum of color that is laid out like a field of wildflowers. It shines in the bright sunlight and wants to be seen its truest form

I look down at the blank paper and wish the pen to write. In frustration I lay my head in my hands. Slowly I fade into sleep only to be awakened by the sound of music. I turn around to see a man playing a lyre as another paces back and forth. Puzzled for a moment ,I look around the room. From one corner I see people who are vaguely familiar. My eyes return to the person Playing the music and suddenly I know it is David, while pacing next to him I see Aerostotil. Over at a simple wooden, table I recognize Shakespear chatting with a brash fellow I know to be Mark Twain. In confusion I stumble into Lord Byron, who is reading work just written by Dickenson, she sits in a chair idly brooding waiting for him to declare what he thinks. In a Mad Dash of confusion I quickly turn around, and I fall as the house of Usher's and come crashing to the ground. A well-dressed gentleman offers me a hand and picks me up, he has a dark and piercing stare. I ask where I am, and Mister Poe quietly declares, you're in the poet's room. You have found your way here, I asked him how and he says I'm truly not sure. He says this is a place where people come to share ideas and to watch one another's work. I say that I was frustrated and could not will my pen to write. He laughs rather smugly with an impish Delight. He said that is not the purpose of writing, he says you cannot will it to flow. He says look around you and tell me what you see. I said I see great writers, but he said they can be just as frustrated as you. He said Each one can tell a story, and he said that something that you must learn to do. So the room again to fade into a fuzzy Hayes. I woke up from my slumber and look down at the blank and dismal page. It suddenly dawned on me, but I must look around. For if I want to tell a story, then it must be found. So I got it for my table and took a walk outside. There I took a really good look at the World Grand and wide. I didn't set off on a journey with the lessons that I've learned. A story can't be forced, it must be earned. So when I return to my desk, with paper and Pen in Hand. I shall no longer be so frustrated for now I understand.

Satan has risen or at least that's what she said, as high heels are tossed at my head. A lamp is broken and a vase of shattered, then the curtains are ripped. She screams that I'm the anti-christ and that this is the apocalypse. I have no idea what I've done wrong as I stand there with a befuddled look. She screams how dare you forget that my parents are coming, is that why you forgot to cook? I scratch my head idly as she points her finger to accuse. I would speak to defend myself but then she has a whole rack of shoes. So I wait for the storm to abate, and then I give my phone a quick look. I noticed the calendar date and a message reminder that says I should cook. As she's filling up a bag with some of her shoes and clothes, I Ponder if I should tell her that today is not the date. I then calmly decide that I'll just quietly wait. As she finishes filling her bag, she looks to me as if I should speak. She asked if I have anything to say for myself, I just Shrugged my shoulders as she begins to leave. I know that it may be kind of cruel for me not to say anything. This is not the first time the storm has blown through or she's made this mistake. So I'll just let her go back to her mom and dads and when she finds out that dinner is next week, she'll be feeling really bad. As she slammed the front door shut, I just gleefully smile at what's coming next. In an hour she'll call me begging for forgiveness, and then we'll have fantastic make-up ***.

**** black high heels and Silk Stockings she can be oh so enchanting. Treat her badly and she will become sarcastic and demanding. You were drawn in by her dark blue eyes and Raven hair, the sharpness of her blood red fingernails made you not really care. Then she steps on your manhood would that ****** high heel, she berates you as inept and you're not sure how you should feel. So is this the enchantress, that cunning and seductive witch or is she just being abusive to you because you caused her to be a *****?

Dew drops fall upon radiant skin, as the morning light breaks the horizon. I lay between supple breast content in lifes rapture. After the veil of night wrapped us in it's shroud, our passion was as a brief burning star. Now that I have walked in your fertile garden and planted a seed, I am comforted in your arms. Skin on skin our bodied share a radiant glow. All of my burdens have melted away and you are now my only desire. In a few brief moments, we have torn down all barriers and you have become the vessel of our future. So as I lay with you, I listen to you breathe as life takes hold from heated passion, as the morning gives way to day, all I know is that I am where I long to be, simply in love with you.

Flight from Fear as women and children are bound together by a tapestry of desperation. The walls of reality have crumbled like a story in some dusty book, it tears away any hope of salvation. Herded like cattle, from one gate to another, from one place to another. With wide eyes filled with fear of the unknown, their tears have become arid and dry. Screaming for a hand to reach in, they look on Beyond distant Horizons at fertile Plains, and desperate hope that help will come in time. Meanwhile, the ones that foment hate and unrest are behind them like a flood of Terror and before them are those who have engorged themselves on the wealth of the world. They stand behind High walls and iron gates with signs that say you're not welcome here. As the two points are squeezed, the unwashed masses in between lash out in anger and frustration. Turning backwards and forwards, then inwards on themselves. Where does Hope lie, they Howl in desperation. As the bodies fall and the stench Rises, apathy is the only reply they receive. Who then will be their salvation, and who will be blamed for the Lost Generations that remain in limbo while one group debates and another rages and hates, and neither does anything to help?

I thought you were my bff, then I find out you're trash talking me! You berated me on Twitter. You posted my not so hot photos on Instagram. My boy friend just broke with me via text message. Apparently you have him thinking I am a ******. I would just get over it, but letting go has never really been my thing. I'm more of the Revenge type of person, but then you knew that already. I guess that's why I've been unfriended so quickly. Now that my social calendar is empty, I'll have lots of time the plot. Though I think you're not done with your ragging, it's that time of month for you is it not? So I'll kiss our BFF selfies goodbye as I delete most of my files. By the way you have some unimpressive photos so this might take a while. I can still feel the knife twisting in my back, so enjoy your moment of Glee. It won't be long the tables will be turned and you will no longer be ****-shaming me. So get yourself ready because I'm about to become that ***** that you always said I was. Don't try to deny you did it and ask pity from me. I don't know why you just didn't cut my throat you see.

Pomp and circumstance take center stage at a ball given by royalty. Ladies adorned in armored gowns walk politely around the ballroom. A knight of medieval chivalry is not so well endowed with protection. For any gentleman Who would know such a Fair Maiden, covered in her impenetrable shell. It will be a guessing game as to what her beauty holds, for little is revealed beneath the veneer and the makeup. It would be easier to come to carnal knowledge in a convent where perhaps Devine eyes would look away. Such was the way of trying to engage the Victorian tryst, it would be easier to understand a Shakespearean play.

A thing that should be filled with wonder, smiles and a safe place to dream. Toothless laughter at the most silly things. Crayon marks on the wall, mommy how big am I today? They grow up in such a hurry, and it ought not be that way. The life of a child should be simplicity and filled with hopes and dreams. It should last longer than 50 Summers it seems. Oh but alass imagination Fades away and problems come and take childhood away. So for the precious moments that last for a little while, let children be children and cherish the life of a child.

Why did there have to be a rugged tree? Why did he have to die that way you see? Why did innocent blood have to pay the cost? Why did they have to nail him to an Old Rugged Cross? God our creator loves everyone, but because of sin something had to be done. The covenants he made, We're Never Enough. Man would always find a way to become corrupt. In our  weakness, in our Foolish Pride, God needed a way to bridge The Divide. So he went and ask Heavens Holy One, the captain of the Heavenly Host to be the one begotten. Giving up his title and His glory, he obeyed the father's will. To become the perfect sacrifice, and die on a lonely Hill. Between two thieves, he paid the final cost. The perfect lamb was slain and victory was won but at terrible loss . So great was our Father's Love, that there had to be a cross.

To the person that is thirsty I shall give water to drink. To those who are hungry I will give them that they may eat. To those who are lonely I will be a comfort and a friend. To those that have no hope, I will show them the way forward. As often as I may, to those that are in need. I will do that which I can, I shall be a blessing indeed.

When morning glories blossom in the first few of the day. When pale silver clouds give way to beams of sunlight. When I feel a soft gentle breeze is blowing in through linen curtains. When I hear children stirring and Echoes of inpatient laughter. When the birds sing a new after a long Starry Night. I will rise and feel refreshed in my soul, for heaven has brought me through into a new day. I will kneel my self in reverence and give thanks for the blessings I have. I will be filled with New Hope for the glories of the beauty that I have seen. I will know true peace and contentment, when the morning touches me.

If you want my respect , then you have to earn it! It's not going to be easy, but I promise that it's worth it. The things that I want money cannot buy. So if you want to earn my loyalty then you can't be shy. I don't have time for players not when it comes to this game. So you better know how to man up, when it comes time to play. If you can give me what I'm looking for, then you'll see what's next. It's going to be a lot of hard work, but if you're willing to put in the effort that's how you earn my respect.

Why can't I tell others what I think? Who says I don't have a right to speak for myself? Why do you get to make those decisions? Who says Society has a right to silence my voice? Why does your point of view matter more than mine. Why do you have a right to deny me my point of view? Just because we disagree, does that mean I cannot advocate for what I believe? I thought self-expression was my right? Why can't I speak?

I sit idle against the wall and look out a dingy window. In my ear I hear a small voice, it says I told you my way is easier. I shake my head and close my eyes only to see darkness flooded with pail colorful dots that look like the prelude to an old movie. Then images flood in of past mistakes and wrong turns. I try to move but I lack the strength. I open my eyes again and the voice says, it is inevitable. I look at my arm filled with track marks and see a spent needle in the corner. I can feel my heart beating faster as I begin to float away. I roll over and climb onto my bed as best I can. Looking up at the ceiling, I hear the faint whisper say just a little more. As I begin to become lost in a dream, I hear the whisper become a roar. I hear the rush of my blood coursing through my veins, the thundering of my heart, thump, thump thump, then the deafening silence. Suddenly, I see the whisperer reaching out to me. The cold dark fingers grasping my life and pulling it away from my body. Then a blinding white light fills my eyes and I feel the lightning rush through my chest. My veins are on fire as the doctor puts the injection in. The silences is gone as I watch the dark hand fade back into the nothingness. Death whispers to me, perhaps not yet, but I have time to wait.

What is it and why can't we see it. Who is this person everyone talks about. Where did it come from and why does the need even exist. So many questions and so few answers. Many rail against the concept, and yet billions cry out to something they have never seen. So is it just a fantasy, or  a mass delusion. Perhaps there is something deeper than what we can understand. Perhaps there is something deep inside of us that knows a cosmic truth that must admit that we do not control anything. Perhaps it is this that makes us focus on seeking out something greater than ourselves. Perhaps this is the idea of God.

Reach out and pluck an idea from the nothing. Lay down the foundation and build upon it. Stack the blocks that form the steps. Walk up each one headed for higher things. Do not look back or get frustrated when you fall. Get back up and build a hand rail. Then push forward laying each block for each step. Then you will wake up one day and realize that what you have been dreaming of is now a reality.

The air smells sweeter when you are with me. Food taste better because you always want me to try new things. The earth beneath my bare feet gives me new sensations because you say that shoes get in the way. Your way of looking at life gives me hope for tomorrow. Each moment I lie with you I feel life forming between us. To become part of you and to see you nurture a creation that we have made is beyond amazing. Nothing is better than a life of love with you.

We are born and we breathe. We laugh and we cry. Our feet move forward because we cannot go backwards. We grow and we learn, we find and we love. We experience then we find a way to share what we know. We have families and we enjoy them, we have the sorrows and triumphs of living . Our time is fleeting but this is our purpose, to live our lives until the end, ever how sweet or sorrowful it is.

Flowers bloom in Vivid bouquets of color. They turn and follow the Sun with precise Direction. As morning comes they open reaching out for Golden rays of Summer light. Then a good Breeze comes along and they blow out the ghastly essence. Pollen bombs my senses and I am thrown into a congestion hell. Trees put on green leaves and Sprout young blossoms, I'm dusted with a ******* and forced to endure great pain. Oh that my suffering could end and I could see winter again.

The world seems to be black and white. Things appear to be wrong and right. If all we had was reason, then there would be no need for a changing of the seasons. To mince words and stir some confusion, to paint an expressionist portrait and challenge reality with an illusion. This is the cause of poets and Painters, the task of writers and philosophers. If no one ever ask what if, then there would be no imagination. Life would be straightforward, and there would be no skewed lines. Yet because we have people who like to question, life will be shaded and there will be offset colors. Not everything will be clearly defined and we will have need of philosophers, poets, writers and Painters to fill in the blank spaces around the edges and to give us something to look at other than a clean blank slate.

A written word displayed on a page with Integrity or profanity. A way to speak to one's fellow person, displaying thoughts and ideas for all to see. What poison can the quill deliver or what medicine to restore the soul with truth? The written word has its context, it brings Joy it elicits hatred it makes us have compassion. Words can start wars or they can make peace. Things written down can Inspire and create or tear down and Destroy overnight. Heroes are made and villains are created all by simple words. How they are penned by the quill will determine their intent. In forms of eloquent oration or simple alliteration, words can move people in One Direction or another. So we must never underestimate, nor should we negate the responsibility in the power that the quill has with the written word.

Oh hey diddly diddly The Merry Song refrains. Echoing through the Tall Oaks where once merry-men did abound. Now Ivy Vines dangle over branches it has creeped up from the ground. Foot paths that were worn in the weathering Heights of Mighty trees have been covered over by Spring foliage and Blossoms that gives sweet perfume or perhaps there is another reason that Footprints can't be seen. Mayhaps a lighter step has come to the wooded Dale that dips quietly Through The Meadows and brakes not a blade of grass. The poor whisper of a phantom the dances in the Morning Mist. A Keen Eye and a sure Arrow quietly abound. Lo there comes yon rich Merchant having bags Laden with gain. The Spoils of his trade, when he already has too much. The twang of a single string like unto a minstrels mandolin, then the sound of coins upon the ground. Away runs the steed of the weathly and tonight the poor will eat. Light afoot comes the archer and her band of merry maidens to sweep away their prize. Then off is a golden haired archer who now bears her father's name. Let it be known to all of Sherwood that Robin hood strikes again.

A single voice spoke a truth. A solitary life started in his youth. Setting an example for all to see, he chose 12 students in Galilee. About a life they wrote many books. Lessons to live by and words that can save. So we must ask ourselves what can one person do. We can teach our children what is wrong and what is right. We can celebrate the solitary life. We can show kindness to strangers and live with mercy and love. It doesn't matter if you believe in a God above. Though some of the lessons he taught were said to be divine, he said you can't go wrong when you're being kind. So whether or not you believe that Christ is God Son, there are so many things that can be done. As one person you can change many lives. That's what a man named Jesus did Once Upon a Time.

Jasmine fills the air as rough cobble stones freeze bare feet. Giggles become contagious like some mysterious spell cast over a gaggle of girls. Ivy covers walls and Spanish moss hangs from trees. Mystery and history blend as the air is thick with the morning mist. Dew wets the earth and makes your hair frizzy and stand on end. The sound of distant music twangs from a park bench as someone tunes a banjo. Life moves in two directions as time seems to stand still then jump backwards. Old cemeteries mark the landscape between million dollar homes. The accent of the local flavors mix it all together like a brisk Mint Julep. A distant whistle blast from a ship that should be in the past as it sails on a river where children dip cane poles in the water hoping to catch a catfish. A portrait is painted of life in a vibrant yet unchanging Louisiana town.

There is a storm and the whiteout conditions blind the news. Arms raised in solidarity they march on. Into a frenzy they whip themselves. Ignoring life with youthful exuberance, the puppets dance for their political Masters. Thinking that they're accomplishing something, they jump into the water as Lemmings often do. One after another they are immersed in a place too deep to swim. Then all of a sudden the narrative has changed and their benefactors decide to go somewhere else. Now the youthful invigorated movement is falling apart and another year has passed. In the new cycle a week is an eternity and getting older can be a death curse. Now they must face the reality that they are no longer in school and there's no direction for their leaders have left them. So they fly all about grasping at air in hopes of grabbing hold of something with meaning. Then in Dyer depression they sink down into the Quagmire of life and slowly drip into adulthood as they face the cruelty and reality of the world.

How could he do this, wasn't I enough she screams at the mirror as she is cutting up his stuff. The scissors are just the beginning as she snips and cuts. Soon he will know that he can't pay enough. She logs on to his computer and goes to his Facebook page. She makes public all of his post and photos to anyone who wants to see, with the exception of the ones that feature her you see. She opens up his email and cancels all of his credit cards. She says I am feeling better, but that's just a good start. She up loads some photos from when he said he was sick, she sends them to his boss and mother they are of his vacation in Cancun highlighted with a caption feeling better soon. Feeling like she's done all she can do at home, she packs up off her clothes and his emergency money and then she is gone. She moves in with one of her girlfriends and then she takes her out,they buy brand new outfits and get all decked out. Manicures and pedicures a new pair of shoes will be just fine. They're both going out partying on his dime. At a club where things are pumping and then music blares real loud she finds a new muscular boyfriend and the two of them wow the crowd. With photos and a YouTube video all of this may seem insane but Then she sends him a link to her social postings, he'll see she knows how to play the Revenge game.

On the first, the world was forever changed. On the first day, God exalted his name. On the first day all things were made new. On the first day of salvation, eternal life was offered to me and you. On the first day the stone was rolled away. On the first day Christ rose from the grave.