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

The 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.

I found a pair of sandals in a second hand store. They were kind of dusty and they were well worn. I tried them on to see if they would fit, suddenly I began to feel where they had been. I saw a blind man sitting beside the road, I felt as if I had to help him. Then the image moved on, I was standing on a mountain with people below as far as the eye could see, I felt that they had come to listen to me. On and on the images came to me until finally I saw a man calling to me. He had wounds in his hands and feet he was standing on a path before me. As I drew closer, I stepped into his shoes, he said the decision is yours, only you can choose?  So I kept the sandals on and went to pay for them you see. The man who owned the shop said that there would be no charge, simply follow me.

We walk around our cities, on our beaches and in our towns. We use all manner of devices to remove ourselves from where we are. We listen to music, or hear mindless chatter of division and dissent. Our hands tap away at plastic screens and we miss life as it goes by us, unless the moment can bring us instant fame. We are immersed in not caring so much that our world has become a sad and lonely place. As people we no long talk, we only text and tweet. We sit in lonely cafe's in electronic silence cut off from reality. If we would simply take a moment and listen to a baby cry or look at the moving clouds and see the color of the sky. How much richer our lives might be. What might we regain. If we would only stop using technology to tune our humanity and to mask our loneliness and pain.

Shuffling through my emotions I relive all of my days. I look at the triumphs and failures and think about different things. I pull at the layers of my inner self to find out who I am inside. I look for some reason for knowing love, fearing what it is that I might find. With know sense left in my spirit, I dare not chance this to fate. If I make one mistake, it could end the gift I have been given. So I carefully dissect my heart to know that my love is sure. Because I cannot never find this gift again, because I have found perfection in you.

Once I was headed home and there was a car that was broken down, it was very hot and one of the two women said she was thirsty. I took a moment to go buy her some water and return to her. I gave her the simple gift and went on my way. One cold afternoon I was buying a coffee and I saw that the person serving me was sad. I asked her if I could help, she said she had lost her wedding ring and could not find them anywhere. I prayed for her and gave her kind words. The next time we happened to meet, she was glowing with happiness, she showed me the ring that had been found and I was happy for her. I went on my way and have done such small things in other instances through out my life. In all of the small things, I now understand that there is no thing to small when giving for God.

A woman falls and spills her purse, I keep walking by. Someone wrecks their car, I just drive on. A flood washes away a small town that I see on T.V., I just change the channel. I am like a warm blanket if indifference, I am apathy.

We are both unique like two snowflakes yet we merge and come together like the winter. The cold is joined to the season as we are joined to each other. When we are together our passion sparkles like the glistening of new formed ice drops on barren trees. We dance as snow swirls that are blown up by the wind. We are content as a wild Hare safe in it's lair. Our love is miraculous like a clear winter sky where all of the stars can be seen. What a wonder I have found in you, my perfect match, the keeper of my soul, the love I know in winter.

Prance through the lilies and run through the streams as the cold snow melts into crystal waters. Listen for the birds to sing and dance to a tune of life. All things are made new and all things are beautiful as winters death releases it's hold and life begins anew. Celebrate the coming revival, rejoice and dance at the coming of spring.

Fire burning passion bright, flame of a hungry soul. Oh how you consume me and drive me mad with lust for the one thing I can never hold. Once I knew beauty and I though I was in love. Her smile was like yellow roses covered in morning dew. She could bring me to the height of desire and cool me with the gentlest touch. My soul would ache to know her love, I would sacrifice to make her mine. Then she flew away and left me empty inside. The passionate fire burned out in my hungry soul. Leaving me mad with desire for the thing I cannot hold. I wailed in torment at her leaving, knowing that I can only feel cruel endless pain. Once you have tasted love so deep, you may never want to love again.

Under blue skies with birds singing, I watch as you go on your journey. Memories rush through my mind and I fight to hold back the tears. So much was left unsaid. As your friends pass one by one, I long to hold you again. I want so much to go back and make it right. Unfortunately, I will not have that chance and now that you are going on your eternal journey, I can't say goodbye.

What will you offer, what would you give? To save the life of another, what is it worth. In many ways one can serve and be courageous! Not all persons serve the same way. Some will wield a sword and bear a shield, others will read a book to a child. Still others will heal and mend the sick. While still others seek to save the lost and the disenfranchised. In all efforts the goal is the same, standing with courage and conviction to the same end. To help others in their own way. With a willingness to offer themselves up in stead of another, there are willing to give away a part of themselves in order to accomplish their goal. With this testimony they are willing to give something away, what will you sacrifice?

Everything has a button, or what some call a switch. I am no exception. As a child I found that my switch was used often, when I would not listen or behave. My grand mother would pluck it from a Peach Tree or any available bush. Sometimes the switch would make me go fast and sometimes it would make me go slow. Sometimes it would make me run in circles and others just roll around on the floor. The switch was not pleasant, but when my switch was tripped, I would always have a reaction, as it corrected me for what I did wrong.

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.

I see the love coming from her eyes, I know the fullness of her lips as she speaks to me. I smell the scent of her Auburn locks and the Jasmine in her hair.

Most people will not acknowledge them but miracles happen everyday. A persons incurable cancer disappears, a person survives a horrific accident without a scratch. Other miracles happen, but we do not want to believe. A scientist makes a ground breaking discovery that can cure an incurable disease. Mankind does feats of engineering that science fiction writers only dreamed were real. A person who seemed doomed, finds redemption and kindness, some people say it cannot be real. I tell you miracles are everywhere, if we only choose to see them. We too can do miracles if you only choose to believe in them. Give a hopeless child a book and a meal, share a tragedy with someone whom you have loss in common, help that soul heal. Give a thirsty person a glass of water plant a seed of hope. Tell them that it will rain tomorrow and they will have more than enough to drink. You ask me if miracles are real, I say they are you see. Miracles need not come from a God or scientist, they can start with you and me.

With billowing capes and brightly colored costumes, super humans flash across the sky of our t.v. screens and in the pages of our magazines. In sporting games people hit each other for large sums of money and crows roar and cheer. These people are called Hero or legend. In all they do some of it is a fantasy and some is of no real consequence. Our values have become misplaced and we do not recognize true Hero's . When a building is ablaze and a fireman answers the call. When there is an accident and an officer is on the scene. When in the wee hours of the morning a doctor or nurse is on call. Going the extra mile to help out and save lives. It is the unsung people who work for average pay who run to burning buildings jump into the thick of things and do all they can to save the day. This is who Hero's are.

One nation under God has all but been forgotten, brother hates brother for no reason at all. ****** and destruction reign in our streets, while children cannot read and go hungry. Our leaders rob us blind and promise us things they will never deliver. We hope for better only to get handed worse. One group takes from others to give away crumbs, while yet another hoards up wealth so vast it cannot be imagined. In days where light is fading and darkness is taking hold, There is no love between two strangers. No compassion can be found, nor can human kindness be measured. We all take what we need and leave nothing for another. There is no love only selfishness. The last light of mercy is fading and we are finding ourselves in a cold and meaningless existence because there is no love.

All of the people dance around the question and no one can recognize the truth. Life has become distorted into 30 seconds of time on the nightly news. How we have separated ourselves from facts and become facilitators of distortions of reality. What is real is now subjective and open to interpretation by lawyers as we are spoon fed the truth as others wish us to see it.

All things being equal, no one should do without. The simplest necessities can be given from all of our vast stores of wealth. Nations who have in abundance can freely share with others. We make more than we can use, yet others waste away. We talk about recycling, but if we didn't use too much. Then every person on the planet would have just enough. Famine would become a distant memory and every one would be able to read. Children would want to get books instead of guns and knives that make you bleed All things being equal, sharing is a fine thing. We should all take the time to share something with another every day.

Render good to those who cannot repay you. Offer mercy to those who do not seem to deserve. Give but do not expect to receive in like kind. Smile at each day, even if it is dark and gloomy, for somewhere there is a need for rain. Count your blessings and not your problems and soon you will find the problems are not so important. Live in harmony with all as well as is possible. Pray often for others even if they don't know you did it. Care deeply for family and try to forgive even if it is hard to do sometimes. Let these be the links in a chain of kindness that binds us all together as friends.

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

Kick off your shoes and squish dirt between your toes. Step on soft green grass where ever it grows. Step into the tide of the ocean and feel the warm wet sand. Walk into a cool stream and feel each smooth stone beneath your feet. Walk across polished wood and listen to it creak. Put your feet up and let the sun warm your toes. Step into puddles when ever the rain flows. In bare feet experience life, dance to the music of the sensations around you. Let the feel of nature bring you to life. Dance with someone close to you. Feel the wonderful sensations as you are barefoot dancing.

How do you describe desire and how do you define love. What form does it take, and what is the evidence of it's existence. Is love the passion between two people or is it perhaps sacrifice? Is love and expression of selflessness or the act of giving comfort and caring. Perhaps it can best be described as all of these things and more. It is a metamorphic thing that is not confined to one definition of mortal existence. Devotion can often go beyond death as one person longs for another. Love is not finite as one person can love man with a selfless act or man people can love one person with gifts of kindness and mercy. So love is ever evolving and changing, into many things from one thing, then returning to it's origins again.

From the top of  a high mountain, looking over the land below. I embrace the wind as I prepare to take flight. On a glider of blue and white, I step into the nothingness and sail into the air. Down then up with the push of the wind. It is as if some unseen hand has lifted me above the earth. I rush onward into the clouds. I feel the moisture brush against my face as the gentle hand of a lover. I turn this way then that, rising towards the welcoming sun. I see an eagle in flight and get close so I can ask his advice on which way I should go. I watch his majestic wings lift him up, then he looks at me and with a haunting screech he dives away as if to say follow me. I turn my kite downwards chasing his wake. I sail over waters and valleys then we both hit a current of air and shoot back up towards the sun. With a wave of his wing he bids me good day. He then goes his way and I go mine. Into the changing blue sky that becomes steel grey,I am lifted high over the land. All things seem small and my problems seem petty, if only for a few moments I know what it is like to be free. As I finally see my friends waiting down below so small, I  know that is where I must go. So I turn my kite downwards and leave the sky that sets me free. For is you ask what I would prefer, then gliding is where I would rather be.

Born to simplicity and raised in a foreign land, he lived a restless life until at last he could be himself. He walked the land bringing a message of hope, then he was wrongly accused and crucified for those he didn't know. One day by chance I met him and with a countenance of a gentle soul, Jesus showed  me that he died to love me.

Life is a spark then a light then a bit of smoke. In between these moments is when we truly are meant to live. What we do will define us for an eternity. Do we put our flicker of light under a lamp shade or set it on a pedal stool so that it may shine brightly and dispel the darkness so that others may see.

When knowledge fails and wisdom will not be heard, it is at this point when we know that we are in love. At the end of reason, passion rules the day, for the heart wants what it wants and will not be denied no matter what our intellect might tell us is rational, love will win out over reason every time.

Rivers flow over green stones as Unicorns dance around fairy enclaves. Rows of rainbows adorn the mist cast up by the silver water hitting the rocks. Trees with gold leaves sway in the warm breezes. Gnomes harvest mushrooms and scurry back to their holes before they are seen by prying eyes. Blue and Purple fish swim in the river jumping in and out of the water. Elves dash from tree limb to tree limb hunting for secret treasures hidden by Leprechauns, after they stole it away from some horrible troll. Magic reigns over the land where imaginations play. In the dark blue sky, 3 moons rise replacing the two suns. One is Jade Green, one is Ruby Red and one is Pail Blue. Each greater than the last. Night falls as White and Silver star light shines down. Tired eyes find rest after the day of imagination. They sleep dreaming of Unicorns and fairies as soft white clouds surround them. Until it is time to wake and play in the imagination again.

I am not sure why people look at me different? I am not sure if this is how it is supposed to be? I only know what I feel, I only know that this is the real me. What I like does not fit a social norm, it is frowned upon, but I do not feel right any other way. So I will keep living what I feel is right and let other people just fade away.

The ringing the ringing please make it stop. I think it is Monday morning, I am not entirely sure. The bells are ringing for school, at the fire house and even my front door. Who could be calling at this insane hour. Through blurry eyes, I look at the clock and it shines a bright red, blazing the time of 11:00 AM. I roll over with my feet dangling off of the edge of my bed. I hear a marching band and bells ringing in my head. What did I have to eat last night, oh yes nothing I am on a liquid diet. One beer then another before moving to a few shots, then by 10:00 PM it was Peppermint Schnapps and one shot from between the ******* of a fair hair maid. Will some one turn off the sun, I want to stay in bed. I don't really remember I think I called in sick. If not then tomorrow I will get a tongue lashing but for right now I feel sick. I know I shouldn't have indulged so much, but I thought you could handle it when you are young. I guess I missed some portion of the manual on having fun. I lurch forward off of my bed. My feet some how find the floor and I stumble into things. I find the bathroom and turn the shower on, the water is really cold but it makes me yelp in shock, only to remind me of the banging in my head that will not seem to stop. Ode to my hang over.

Vanity is an infection that distracts from the truth. Superficial beauty fades like leaves on a tree in Autum. Wealth blinds the eye to justice. Silver and gold turns away true judgment. Those who have can buy judgment, while the poor have no recourse. All things come to an end, kingdoms collapse and empires fall. Death is the one true equality. All face this judgement, an no mortal can escape it. No matter what trappings the world has given us.

Down into a seemingly endless dark hole men go with picks and shovels. Down below the mountains of Kentucky, and West Virginia. Listening to the water as it drips down over the rocks, they go beneath the earth. Off of an elevator into a dark and damp world, filled with dusty black rocks. They walk or ride a rail towards the end of the line, where they break the ribs of the earth. Shovel by shovel they tear at the black parts of the underside of now hollow mountains. Stripping out the guts of what is left until another vein can be found. There is no way to know the time or if the sun has risen or not. They simply dig a little further, sending the black rock on it's way out to who knows where. At the end of a shift, they crawl back out of the midnight colored hole, and try to wash off the dust of the earth that clings to them like so much ink. Laying down their weary bones and resting a spell, they rise at an appointed time to do it again.  Back into the pit of midnight to mine out the black rock. This is the life of a miner of coal.

On Bended Knees with tearful eyes in a quiet lonely place, a broken soul soundly pleads asking for heaven's Grace. The wounding is deep and the pain will not go away. The world does not understand ,or does it even care. Yet when the silent prayer reaches heaven, it is a thundering echo there. Before the throne of God Satan trembels in fear as the gates of hell are rattled buy simple silent prayer.

Hair like hues of red in a setting sun, the smell of Apricots on her skin. Freckles that dot her face and show up when she grins. Laughter that sounds like a babbling brook. A soft gentle spirit that can soothe the greatest cares. Kindness that is beyond compare. Such are the things that make my love a wonder. A pleasant distraction of grace and beauty to diminish the worldly cares and give me safe refuge from the things that haunt me everyday.

Beneath the ground you walk on, in dark crevices and cracks. Things creep and move with little concept of time. Stones sit idly for eons of time waiting for the earth to shift and groan. A niche is carved out and a pool of water forms. Things begin to grow and flourish around the pool in the dark deep recesses of the earth. Life finds a way in the harshest of places. In deep caves where it seems impossible for it to exist. As we scurry around like bacteria in a plastic dish, life evolves, lives and dies all around us, while we are seldom aware of the secrets the caves, and natural subterranean world holds above and beyond what we can know and understand.

Mushrooms talk to me when I lay in my back yard. Ducks stop by to say hello. I often forget some of my clothes when I go out to drink. My last girlfriend said I was too out there. So I wander between what is loosely defined as reality and the world that is normal to me. I really don't want to hurt anyone, I just want to live like me. So I step across societies line and have a little too much fun. Walking on the dark side of life keeps things interesting, give it a try sometime.

God is kindness and God is love. God is a firm hand from above. God is instruction and God is change, in the way our lives are lived. God is reason and God is wisdom. God is correction with a loving hand. God is a father and a teacher. God is a comforter and a friend. God is a creator and God is a judge, with divine wisdom and discernment. God is all of these things and so much more, if we would only open our hearts, we would know what God is.

A broken heart and cross stained with tears. Worn out sandals covered in dust. A day when Gods heart burst. The ultimate gift of love, a perfect sacrifice sent from above. Christ was Gods valentine to all of us. When the messiah cried it is done, we revived greatest gift, his only begotten son.

Hidden behind stacks of lore and fables. Buried in romance novels and historical biographies. Devouring the written word, with seldom a thought for humanity. Oh book worm won't you come out into the sun light. Leave behind your musty hole and breathe the fresh air. Come to experience that which you have only read about.

From sententious curves to full lips. From dark hair to ***** blonde. With pail blue eyes or dark brown, be at peace with yourself. From a case of the giggles to a kitten sneeze, know that you are special. Beauty is subjective and you are truly beautiful. In your own way, you hold beauty. You were created and made unique. You are special in so many ways. Be confident with who you are. Always love yourself.

A person rises up and works hard ,then the government boot comes down on them. The powers that be say we must be compassionate, but where is compassion for me. I know we need roads and bridges, I can see that each time I hit a *** hole. I know we need a common defense, but who are we fighting with? It is time to reevaluate the system that takes so much from everyone. We are taxed for our gas, we are taxed for our food. We are taxed for our water, for our clothes and our shoes. We are taxed on our income and if there is anything left, we are even taxed after our death. We can't even rest in peace with out a visit from the IRS.

A boat bobs up and down in the surf as old wood is scattered on the shoreline. The wind blows up the sand and ghost haunt the dunes. Pieces of life fit together in odd ways as each one tries to grasp at reality. The sea froths and churns with cold waves as it makes a groaning sound with each splash against rocks that seem older than they should be. Wet sand ***** you into the earth where the water has soaked it through. Heavy are the desires of nature as old and new tear at each other. A mist rises and the fog horn calls from a distant outcropping of rock telling sailors beware. The home sick souls come forward looking for safe passage as I gaze on into the thick smoke of water vapor that surrounds me and fills my lungs with the cold dank scent of the sea. I head inland to try to escape it all, but the stench of it is in every fiber of my being. I am now and forever intrigued and a prisoner to nature and to the sea.

In places where it seems that there is no hope, I see children smile and play. In the darkness of night, I have seen a million start give pinpoints of light to comfort the soul. In the desolate desert, I have seen a little rain bring the garden of Eden to mind. In places where it seemed impossible. In situations that seemed all but hopeless, I have seen Gods glory in the most amazing ways.

Pain and suffering abound in a world filled with strife. Children go hungry and disease ravages whole countries. All seems hopeless and lost, and yet we are told that we should,praise God? Why should we praise him and who is this God that will let people suffer so? Perhaps it is because we have tried everything but calling on him, that when all else has failed us that now more than ever we need to give our praises to God.

I keep it locked deep inside of me. I seldom let it speak. When it does it confuses me. It screams at me and rages for no reason at all. I keep it locked away deep inside of me. I smile politely to most people when the voice inside me wants to scream obscenities at them. I do not know why it does, I just no I can't let it out. It warns me when I am being stupid, but I seldom listen. It tries to get me to do things I do not want to do, but it says are fun. I keep up appearances, but I grow tired of putting on a show. I keep it locked up deep inside of me, but my inner voice is clawing its way out.

I want a drink of clean water, with nothing but what nature put there. I want to see ducklings that do not have three eyes or deformed wings. I want to be able to see the bottom of a deep pool where fish swim and I can dive in and join them. I would like to water my garden and not have my corn wither and die. All in the name of profit and money, this is the daily norm. No one cares about their neighbors, they only care about themselves. Its not until the children get sick and die does someone have enough. Then money is offered in the place of life, to buy silence if it is offered at all. So as the earth cries out and children get sick and die, I ask one more time, please don't poison me.

The battle has been long and hard fought. I have lived fearful that I would be seen as weak. I have struggled with my own pride and wrestled with an aching heart, but at last I have come to wonder why I even fought. Looking into eyes soft and welcoming, I realize that I could only fight in vain. Your passion is as over whelming as the fragrance of a field of Lilly's. Your depth of caring rivals the deepest ocean. In utter exhaustion from the emotional struggle, but at last in complete peace, I surrender to love and to a part of myself that I never knew that I was missing.

Standing on clouds with wings spread apart, circling above the earth silhouetted by moonlight, beings of majestic form spiral downwards then back up again. Like shades of a form filled with the purest light, they fly across the sky, transcending the earthly realm. Images cast on silver clouds and shadows shown upon the earth. They wind their way over the water and let their wake stir up frothy waves. Sailing back high into the clear night sky against a back drop of the starry host. They shimmer and glow singing a chorus as soft as morning dew. In a wonderful display of other worldly agility, they bring comfort to all who happenstance to see them. Then as quickly as they took to their cloudy stage, they fade into the morning light as wisp of smoke that fade from a child's dream. Leaving only the memory of angels in flight that danced with joy through the heavens for a fleeting moment in time.

There was a song from not so long ago, the self righteous chanted four dead in Ohio. Now the same ideologues have gained power you see. They sat idly by with stark indifference as four were killed in Benghazi. Where have the protest gone, where did the moral outrage go. Where did the righteous anger get to when in Benghazi hero's blood did flow. So in Ohio it was a righteous day, but in Libya they chose to look the other way. Oh how they change their ways when it is a different kind of war. When the blood flowed, they just didn't care anymore.