Lights pierce the night sky and shine down on this mortal shell that exist for a wisp of time as smoke it is here and gone. The stars that light the sky could have long since faded from when they first shone in the heavens, before my eye beheld them. Yet I am of no consequence compared to the existence of the cosmos. For now, I must stare in awe of the wonder knowing that in my present state that I cannot walk the Milky way. Perhaps we are still too young and must be content to simply look up at all of the stars in the sky.

A young man once spoke to an old man and he said why do you sit here idly by? The old man said what would you have me do, for I have lived my life. The young man said whatever it takes to get rid of the rags that you wear, the old man responded I could if I had silver and gold, but then would I be happy? The young man then said one day I shall have these things a crown and riches Untold. So the old man passed into memory and the young man worked very hard he learned the things that were expedient, and Achieve greatness. Then one day as he set upon his throne wearing his Golden Crown, he happened to look out the window and saw an empty piece of ground. There in his memory he remembered what an old man had said and then he hung his crown laden head for his heart was filled with Dread. He had achieved all the things that money could buy but yet he had no peace, so at lasts he understood what the old man meant and wished he could speak to him again.

Act out your violent intentions and take the life of another. Letting another live and let live, why cannot this be a mantra? Profiting off of the misery of others to get rich because this is the picture that you have been painted by the profiteers who sell souls for a few gold coins. Perhaps environment is the cause, or perhaps there is something deeper? Could the need to control and dominate be inherent to our nature, and if this is the case, what can we really do to separate ourselves from what we must be?

Things have gotten in our way and separated us from each other, neighbors no longer talk and say hello. Tweets, texts and post have replaced a friendly smile and a warm hello. Emogies now display how we feel, instead of words of explanation. We have gotten off track in our hurry to get nowhere. We have forgotten the meaning of true community and family. Perhaps if we put our cellphones down and shut off our computers for a while, we will get to know who lives next door and then we will find our way back to the path of connecting with humanity, for as it stands right now, we have lost our way.

Your head lays on my shoulder as a cool breeze blows in the evening. The birds sing quietly as the sun fades slowly Beyond the Horizon. Clouds dangle overhead, against the steel grey sky changing colors as the sun slowly Fades away. I pull you close to me and I can smell your hair, the scent of hay fields and wildflowers still mingled in its strands. Quietly we sit, holding each other in a Lover's embrace. There's nowhere else I would rather be then watching the sunset with you.

Before computers came along, before there was a telephone. Scribes sat over parchment and labored intently. With quill and Inkwell they lay down a foundation, preserving and sharing knowledge. In Scrolls and books they repeated and passed on things that were thought of importance. Records were kept and events were recorded for posterity, so that others might look back and see through the written word what others had seen. Many fought against this because they favored ignorance and darkness, but the written word still moved on. Even when it was called heresy and costs those who believed in it their lives, the dedication to the preservation and expansion of knowledge did not stop. So it is by the written word that we rose out of Darkness and remove the shackles of ignorance to step into the light of knowledge and understanding.

The oceans churn, and the sky's turned black! The wind howls, and the mountains Shake! For too long we have relied upon ourselves. We have taken and not given, and hoarded up our wealth. We steal from the poor to enrich ourselves. Merchants sell death or trade lives like a pair of shoes. As long as our own belly are full, we think we are doing well. With each catostrophy, we are warned to change our ways, yet many fail to hear and blindly go on their merry way. For thoes of who heed the warnings, we may yet be saved. The change is coming whether we accept it or not. It doesn't matter if you believe that it be of nature or God. The truth will be the same, the world is reeling from our selfish ways and it is going to change.

There's a call that no one ever wants to hear. The code that should never be spoken. When men and women of law enforcement step out on that line, they want to go home at the end of their shift. In the back of the mind of every peace officer, their lives that constant fear. The words that they pray they'll never have to hear, Officer Down!

Chisel away here and cut a little back there. Apply some paint and then layer it on again. Twist and shape a form and the mass, tuck it into a girdle, but it just won't last. Find the right pair of shoes not too high and not too loose. Something perhaps with open toes, or a Cuban heel you might suppose. Place the girls in a push-up bra and all of a sudden you become a star. Part your hair to the left, no now it's to the right. Not one strand can be out of place, not if you want to look good tonight. Obtaining beauty is a art, a skill that is crafted as a whole and in part. People spend a lifetime learning this trade, for a few moments of beauty it can be sad.

Oh blanket of darkness envelope me. Safe haven of comfort surround me, hide me from the harsh light of day. Veil of concealment wash over me, let your dark streams take away the sight of things too painful to bear. In the day I must see my own reflection. In the bright light I cannot hide from the things that remind me of you. In the darkness, I do not have to see myself. In the night I am invisible and the pain goes away. So while the night holds terror for some, I welcome it when it comes. To me it is a shield against unwanted pain. In the cool embrace of the night, I can breathe again. It is where I find peace and I do not have to be reminded of you.

My voice began to change at 13 years old. Hair begin to growing in places it wasn't before. My feet became too big my nose became too small, I'm now all thumbs and I keep walking into walls. I'm convinced that this is a conspiracy contrived to put an end to me. A now gain weight just looking at cake, my ankles are swollen and I get moody all the time. I've come to the conclusion that this must be a crime. I'm just not sure how you can arrest yourself, perhaps if I think about it more and answer will come to me. Until then I have concluded that my body just hates me.

The land of the free and the home of the brave has been transformed into the place of the scared and hateful. Our children have been stripped of their ability to determine  right from wrong. Parents have been replaced by the television. Most now have to work two jobs just to pay their bills. The government said you do not need a father, now young men treat women like property and ******. Get rich quick or die trying has replaced do unto others as you would have done unto you. The politicians we thought would lead us, have just robbed us blind. They make lofty promises that they cannot keep and keeps us in the dark by design. There is no prosperity, the younger generation wants to be taken care of. The latest phone application has replaced the want for social interaction and hard work is so yesterday. When the greatest generation is gone, will they really be missed? Perhaps this country is better off disassembling and starting over again. When all of our troops have come back and the foreign aid is gone. When nothing else is free and you are left to your own devices, will people really wonder where America has gone?

An old man still on the street corner with a tin Cup in his hand. He would sing and dance a little bit for people that would walk by and if you like what he did he would ask can you spare a few dimes. His clothes showed sign of age and his hair was white and gray but he did not seem to have want or need, he just came out everyday. Some people wondered if he was crazy, other thought he was just a ***, but if you saw what he would do each night, then you would understand why he would do his little song and dance and Shake That Old tin can. When the sun were begin to sit low, the old man would take a walk down the street. They'd walk inside a little chapel and before an altar he would kneel. He would parties cup into the collection plate, and say Lord I did the best I could I hope that this little bit helps and there with it you can do some good. He would then get up and move on and go about his way, until the Sun would rise up and he started again the next day. One day you're the old man came up missing, where did he go you suppose? Nobody seemed to really miss him they just walk by and didn't notice at all. He finished up his work one day and did as he had done many nights before, but this time when he went to the alter he was met there by the Lord! He was pulled up from bending knees and Jesus Took the cup from his hand. The Lord then placed the crown upon his head, and the heavens began to expand. The old man turned around and he look back upon his life. He heard every prayer he prayed install every time you brought in his little can. What he saw now that he didn't see then, was that God had a master plan. Every few dollars the one in that plate, went into Masters hands! They're Jesus spoke over it and supplied it with blessings they could not be given by man. The old man self children being fed and people being taught the word. Then the Lord said to him the half that you have done is not even been known, but for your faithful service I now welcome you home. So when you think the smallest thing that you do is not enough, just remember that great things come on the smallest deed when it's touched by God's love.

Wake not the gentle sleeper until she has had her fill of rest. Let her delicate form lay silently between cool linens upon her soft and gentle bed. Take care not to disturb her, while she lays in the morning light. With golden rays of sunlight upon her breast and shining on her raven locks that are dark like onyx. Let her awake in her own time, arising to welcome a new day. The form of her navel firm like taught silk in a weavers loom. See how she raises her delicate hands to her lips that are the color of roses bright and fresh with the morning dew. Her blue eyes open as she washes away the sleep with clear water that refreshes her. Gaze upon her not with envy but in admiration that she was chosen fairest among the flowers of her fathers house. Take comfort that she is a glory to her husband and a giver of kindness to her children and to the poor. Her virtue is her beauty and quiet discretion is to her as a golden ornament. She wraps herself in silks and linen to be about her task. She stands in the opening of her porch to receive her near kinsmen with a kiss as gentle as a summers breeze. Rejoice in the presence of her, she who is delicate in her ways and steadfast in her strength, for how fair is my love above many of higher birth than she?

I may never write a great novel, or give a great speech to a large crowd, but the things that I have accomplished, of them I can be very proud. It has taken me a lifetime and the journey on a very difficult Road, but I have borne my burdens and helped others share their load. In my travels I have made a difference to those I have met along the way. I tried to help a different person each and every day. No man will not record my Deeds, they're written in every heart, for every life that I have touched, of that person I am now a part. So when you feel as if you have accomplished nothing, take a moment and reflect. Look back on all those you have met, and check off every time that you gave someone a helping hand, you were making a difference one life at a time.

Waves of color dark and Light, Ebbs and flows of humanity both wrong and right. Storm tossed regions filled with fear and fright, violence swells up and settles down like frothy waves against the rigid Shore. The people of the world formed their own ocean, flowing from Rivers into a sea of humanity. We mix and blend ourselves finding the way into one commonality. Like the ocean we toss and turn and swirl, having periods of calm and periods of ravage storm, but as the water that joins into the sea, we are joined one to another in humanities great ocean.

Japanese cusine takes precison and care to prepare, life also takes great care. For some, eating sushi is adventurous and for others it is mundane because it's what they do every day. The same goes for life, living outside of the comfort zone is exciting to some, while taking risk is of no consequence to others it's just what they do. If you find sushi palatable and eat it often, then you must keep it well or it will spoil in begin to stink. Life must also be kept well, if you don't take care about how you live, some of the things that we choose to do can also have a stench about them. This is why if you look carefully you'll find that life and sushi have a lot in common.

Fit into the dress, so they won't like you less, keep your size near zero, that is how it goes. Each day is a chore not knowing if you can do it anymore. Eat, then purge to keep yourself beautiful. Repeat, then feel miserable about yourself. You enjoy the attention, but in private you cannot stand the pain. Wanting to be beautiful shouldn't come at such a high price. So once again you go through the motions, eat, purge then repeat to keep the image of what you think others want to see in you.

Violence is the answer when people disagree. There is no freedom because you will not do as others say. Persecution for your faith is getting worse everyday. Wickedness has replaced righteousness, that is the new way. God is rejected and left out of everything. Fear and uncertainty fills our daily lives. People are devoid of humanity and care only about themselves. There is no hope for for for man's utopia, without God the world is becoming a living hell. People wander around lost in their sins. They walk around blindly wondering how it will end?

If I pray for you will you hate me? If I ask the Divine to have mercy on you, will you accept it? If I plead for your soul, will you think less of me? Even if the god I pray to is not the one that you seek, will you still accept compassion from me? If I pray for you, will you do the same for me?

God is someone who loves all of his children, no matter what we may look like. He is loving kind and gentle, but firm like a father would be. Many ask the question what is God, but what we should be asking, is Who is God to each of us.

Emotions separate us and tear us apart. Distrust, suspicion and lies are the things that get in our way. We throw up barriers to protect ourselves. Physical barriers such a separation and distance from the ones we used to love. We set up emotional barriers to guard our heart so that we won't be hurt again. Brick by Brick we build these obstructions, the things that keep us from really living Our Lives. Until we begin to Tear Down the Walls that we build, we cannot again feel the warmth of love and know trust nor can we begin to heal until this is done

Then
They look at us and they call us crazy. They think we're a bit out of touch. What they fail to get is what we have gained, and what we would like to share with them so much. We accept what they call impossible, yet miracles happen everyday. We are taught to show mercy and kindness, but to stand with resolve and seek Justice. People ask us how we can live this way. To know the person of Jesus, is to begin to understand that we are never on our own, for our God has a master plan. When the world looks at us, what they really don't see. Is that because of what we believe, we have been forgiven and are set free.

The dark clouds rolled in and the rain falls bitter and cold. The birds have stopped singing, and leaves have all turned Brown. I sit here in my solitude, waiting for something to change. Each day I grow a little emptier,as I try to deal with the pain. Once the world was bright and happy, but then you went away. Now I sit here alone w/o,seeing where did the sunshine go?

Kick the ball, pass the ball, catch the ball, the simplest of definitions. All sports have the basic underpinnings. We watch to be inspired, we watch to be entertained. We get a thrill from the excitement and drama that comes from the team we love winning or losing it all. Until now, there has been sports, but no longer is this the case. The sacred arena has been turned into a political theater littered with nay Sayers and contrived outrage. 24/7 in a news cycle, we succumb to the volatile nature of confrontation. Our national pastime, our favorite hoops shooter or the fastest running back was our escape. Now millionaires not content with fame and large sums of money, must pollute the sports we love with their fake outrage. Sixty minuets in a football game or 3 hours in a baseball arena. One hour on a basketball court or a few periods on center ice. Hundreds of hours pass in a month where a person can make a statement, but when they defile the sports we love, then truly there is no game, just a sad rendition of failed lives that only want attention they feel they cannot get anywhere else.

The sun shines brightly as it Cascades down. The birds sing sweetly and gentle breezes blow around. I sit in a dark room finding no joy within these things. While many others take pleasure in such wonderful things, I miss the grey skies and the rain. On rainy days all things seem equal. On rainy days I don't feel so alone. On rainy days I can walk outside and see the world as I feel inside. So while others the delight in the sunshine. I will sit and wait until it passes by, and I will miss the rainy days until they come and make me whole again.

Twitter Snapchat Instagram Pinterest Facebook and emails full span. Social media belongs to the left of right-wing opinions it is bereft. If you speak about Jesus, if you say that liberal protests are filled with hate. Then you're called a fascist and your accounts they will delete. So if you're on social media, be wary of the Trap. Being a conservative is not where it's at.

People leave their war torn country in search of a better life. Like Locust they migrate from there to here. Under the shadow of laws that are meant to keep order, yet are ignored in the name of profit. Many are innocent, but some are vile. Discerning between sometimes takes a while. Once the people have been sifted in and put in their little box, then it is back from where you came or into a cell with you. All hope is dashed for a while, until someone with more reason comes along. Then the cycle begins again, the shadow of the law is ignored for a while and a perpetual cycle revolves with no clear answer to the question of what exactly is right?

When the sea rages and the night wind blows oh so cold. The master waits for you to come and call. On the water he walked to meet his disciples. In the hold of the ship he lay fast asleep. When they feared they would perish, their souls he did keep. He spoke to the wind and the raging storm. Then the sun did shine and there was a great calm. No matter what you are going through or how the tempest tosses you to and froe. Know that he is there in the storm with you.

Iron and Steel rust and buckle. Stone weathers and is worn away. Mountains crack and crumble into pebbles in a stream. Yet a single strand of hope is stronger than them all. While time can diminish many durable things, it has no affect on hope. Where hope exist in the smallest thread, it can be stronger than all of these and so much more. Hope binds people together and gives a reason to go on. It is a solid foundation that does not weather and can withstand the fiercest storm. So when all other things are faded, hope is a strong thread that can ever remain.

Tepid is the soul that has no adventure. Languishing is the life that knows no love. Empty is the person who cannot find a passion. Dark is the life that will not let another person in. People need not  be hateful to express their desires and beliefs. When a person has no grit about them, life is just bland and you just exist. So take not the easy path, but challenge yourself each and every day. For if salt has no savor, then what good is it anyway?

Photos adorn the dresser and a faded dress hangs on a closet door. A pair of well worn sandals collect dust beside the bed. Music plays from an old radio as the images of ghost dance through the living room. The kitchen sits empty and unused. Pots and pans no longer rattle and clang together and there is no laughter anymore. Tears now stain my pillow where the scent of your perfume was before. They say that you get better as time goes by, but I will be loving your memory until the day that I die.

When our lives diverge and we must go our own way. Let not sorrow find our hearts. Though miles separate us, and different dreams call us to walk a different path, let us always keep memories safe inside of ourselves. When the light of our own path shines dim, and we consider if we have made the right choice. Remember that we are still friends in the closest since of the word and that not even death can break our bonds. So until we meet again, I bid you a fond journey, as you walk your own way and I settle into my place. Let good fortune smile on us both, until that day we both again as true friends embrace.

Let me live as I see fit as long as I do not deprive you of what you believe. Care about what happens to me, even if we do not always agree. Remember that we are all humans and children of humanity. Even if we live separate lives, at let us live in peace. Do not oppress me and I will not learn to hate you. Do not impose what you believe on me and I will try not to preach to you. Perhaps if we can do these things, then we can begin to see, that we are not different after then maybe you can abide with me.

The internet is down and wifi doesn't work. My phones battery died 10 seconds before I left work. I can't snap chat what I am about to eat. I am panicking because I can't read my tweets. The lights just went out and I am sitting in the dark, what did people do when they were miles apart? I feel so unconnected, it just isn't fair. If I don't post on Pinterest will anyone even care. There is no TV to watch, not even the Vine's. How can I now pass the time? It feels like torture, please let it end. Oh only if I could get on face book again. Thus is the state of the modern world you see. We have created this mess in our society. So when reality finally comes to call, just sit back and quietly laugh as you watch the snowflakes fall apart.

We walk around in the illusion of control, like Ants in a farm. Round and round we revolve on a Merry Go Round of fantasy. Each of us secure in the fact that we can decide to make changes at will. All the while, the earth turns and the wind blows and with one tiny change in direction a cool breeze becomes a Tornado or a tropical wind becomes a Hurricane and like Ants we scramble to save what we think is precious to us, yet we are simply swept away in the tide of confusion as our delusional bubble is burst. Confounded, we grasp at the straws of reality and in an abrupt instances, we realize that we are truly masters of nothing.

It is going to get hot, no it is getting cold. There will be massive flooding, no the polar caps have refroze. The science says this, no the science says that. We went 10 years without a major storm, how do you explain that? It is dry over here and it is wet over there. We have been told the sky is falling so many times, that no one really cares. So can you tell me what the weather is going to be today? At least give me that so I will know what to wear. Can you even tell me if the sun is out somewhere?

I watch lives fall apart, I see people forget who they are. I see children left on their own, just so parents can get high. Good people steal and do violent things they would not normally do. Nothing good can come of abuse, other than jail or death. You pay for your addiction with your health and your wealth. Those who deal to you are never really your friends. You never know when the next purchase will land you in some cold and uncaring jail. You are paranoid a lot of times for no reason at all. If you are really lucky, you have someone who will get you help. Otherwise, you will sell off what ever you can get your hands on just to get your next high. You will even trade yourself, just to pay your debt. Drugs will use you up until there is nothing left. So heed this warning, lest you pay a terrible price. Drugs are a one way street that can end up costing you your life.

Twang goes the Banjo down the hollow. The whine of the Harmonica can be heard across the ridges and through the tall lonesome Pines. A Bow Fiddle sings next to a rushing river that comes cold out of the rocks of a mountainside. From the Ozarks through the Catskills back into the Great Smokey Mountains, the sound of a simple but difficult life can be heard in the tears and joy of mountain music.

My ship has been beaten and battered, the hull has had enough. I am tired and weary, the seas have finally found their calm. Long has the voyage been but now I need to rest. Through many storms I have sailed longing for safe harbor. Now on the horizon I see the lights of a new city and my final port of call. So with what little strength I can muster and with the last drop of faith that is in me. I unfurl my sails as I feel a soft gentle breeze blowing at my back. Onward I go as the hull cuts through the calm water, I see the lights getting ever brighter as a new dawn seems to be breaking from an unknown place. With quiet resolve I set my rudder amid ship and head forward, as I get ever closer to the bright new shores, I can see images of people I know, my eyes now grow heavy as if I am entering a dream. The troubled waters of life fade away as I finally make land fall to the lights that have been calling me home for so long.

To ask a question of oneself is to begin understanding. To ask a question of another is to seek wisdom. To offer help to another without thought of ones self is the rendering of mercy. To give freely without concern of your own person is to achieve selflessness. To resist oppression is to show strength. To seek justice is to find a truth. To know that we are imperfect, is the beginning of humility. To apply these things to ones life is learning how to live.

A cackling laugh and horrendous screech with a vitriolic scowl that could freeze a river to a standstill. Knives sharpened to stab you in the back, with her husband who will give your ***** a whack. A child that was a one off, at men she does often scoff. No feeling of love except for herself, compassion is something to be kept on a shelf. Oh how rich I have become is her mantra, if you want so help then let me get some money to my foundation, and then we can have foreign relations. Shaking and shivering coughing for an hour, but don't mention it or things will get sour. What a wondrous disaster  to say the least, not once but twice did she suffer defeat. First to the smooth speeches of an upstart rogue, when the highest office was hers to take. Then a second humiliation at the hands of another ***** grabbing male. Oh could it be her husband 2.0, crying all night this can't be so. The glass celling did not break, it can' be right this has to be a mistake. At the end of the day into the forest it did retreat, perhaps this is the last we will hear of the Hilda beast?

Oh rocking horse sitting beside my bed, where shall we journey today. With your wooden saddle a bright sunset Red and your golden reins in hand, I mount you and watch the world pass by as we thunder across sandy dunes and dash into the surf. Only to lead into the barren waste of the mighty desert and into an Oasis. Around and around we ride as you buck wildly as I try to tame your fierce nature, to the amusement and applause of a cheering crowd in a dusty rodeo. Each day is an adventure with you and a childhood dream come true.

Slivers of Silver and White dangle from frigid walls, moonlight shines bright through the clear frozen windows and bounces around the facets of the frozen jewels that adorn the spires and stairways. The ceiling shines like a thousand stars as each frozen Diamond bounces faint Blue light back down to the floor. Adorned in a gown of winter white, the princess of the frozen kingdom whirls around and dances in her winter dream. Deep in the frozen heart of the coldest places, she is adored and cherished. With eyes closed she feels the chill of her castle that will stand until the sun comes to reclaim it's own. Until then she will dream of life in her frozen palace of wonder.

I am flawed and not yet complete. I work very hard to be better, but I often fail. I am judgmental but I try not be. I can be cynical though it profits me nothing. I want to succeed but I am not sure what it looks like. I want to be a difference maker, but I cannot find where to start. I am a hot mess sometimes but I am trying to get that straightened out. I stumble because I keep falling into potholes, but I am fixing them as quickly as I can. Be patient with me and consider that we are more alike than you would admit. Please forgive my imperfections, I am a work in progress.

Words scrawled on a suicide note, written on a tear stained paper. The last mentions of a lonely and ignored soul. Laying in agony, ridiculed and misunderstood. The words were so simple, yet they would tear your heart into. The limp body laying beside the paper and pen, lifeless and blue. Only wanting to be acknowledged, only wanting to feel loved. The poor tortured soul now rest with the angels above. What could be so heart wrenching that could be written on a single piece of paper you see. With ever tear stained word, all that was said is please don't forget me.

I see a homeless man pushing a shopping cart. He talks to himself as he goes on. His clothes are torn and ragged, he looks straight ahead as I go by. I walk into a restaurant to have a bite to eat, I look out the window and gaze down the street. I see a woman with a small child by the hand, I almost cry as I see her digging through a garbage can. I listen to the radio on my way to where I live, I hear all of the complaining and people saying how bad it really is. I get close to my house and I pass under a bridge, I see a person laying in a cardboard box because he has no place to live. I think of all of the situations I see each and everyday. I bow my head and ask God why it must be this way. Then I remember that we all have choices to make. We can sit by and do nothing or do what it takes. A few dollars that we can spare or a kind word of encouragement you see. I then thank God for what I have, because I realize that could be me.

Monolithic trees standing silent as if frozen by time. Stone giants rising into the sky, reaching for something that I cannot see. Petrified remembrances of a time long past. A connection to what once was and may never be again. Animals run among the monuments and birds light upon their frozen limbs. The sun reflects off of their crystalline bark as I walk among them. So much is preserved and so much is forgotten, in the stone forest where petrified trees wait quietly for another day to pass.

The leaves change and turn the colors of the rainbow. The moon shines bright and the cool breeze makes lovers embrace a little closer. New families bundle their precious jewels of joy up snugly as they venture out into the waning sun. The nights come ever quicker and the stars seem to shine a little brighter. Hearts seem to grow more melancholy towards family and dear friends. New lovers find the harvest moon enticing as they wander off for time alone.  The world seems to settle a little away from the vibrant waves of summer, things take on a slower pace and a softer hue. Peace can be found in quiet stolen moments as love comes in the fall.

Is it divine, is it inspired, what is the Bible? A book written by stodgy old men long past their prime? Is it a fantasy the someone dreamed up to explain the unexplained?  Some say it is not real, others say it is just embellished history. In the truth of things it is a record of things that can and cannot be explained. The history of men and women who failed but found grace and were forgiven. The tales of imperfection that were left to give us guidance. A tome of hope and inspiration to any who are willing to believe. A book of logic and reason with wisdom of the failures of others. It is a book but many things in one, so what is the Bible to you?