Take a needle and some thread, put two lives together and begin to heal a wound. It doesn't matter which lives they are, any two will do. Once the stiches are in place, each one filled with love and understanding. Then you can begin to mend the tattered world a few lives at a time.

On the open water, waves crashing around the hull. Pulling the wheel and turning tight to catch the wind. The single sail rises full and the canvas glistens against the sun. It is in these moments that I can clear my mind. No power to guide me, just the will of the wind to drive me. I am at the mercy of the air and the sea. Beneath the open sky feeling the salt spray and the warmth of the sun, here is where I relish my solitude.

I cannot eat one bite of food. My stomach is tied in knots and sleep has not been my friend. I wrestle with my emotions and the emptiness that I feel inside. I am tossed about like a ship on the ocean as I suffer through each day in misery. I long for rest and understanding, but no one seems to be able to relate to how I feel. So I will drift along the shore of emotional despair, looking for a safe harbor where I can find emotional stability and shelter from the storm of confusion that now consumes my life.

I pulled down some stars to see what they would do, they burned my hand and made me sorry I did it. I wanted to talk to a fish, so I stuck my head under water, I soon realized I could not breathe. I decided I would pursue self enlightenment so I filled my bed with nails, I didn't get much sleep, but now I am truly holy. I tried many things to make my life less dull, so I think I will paint myself and watch it dry. That sounds like a lot of fun.

When planning out your day simply start with an open block of time. Set one hour aside for nothing to go right. Then move on to your first task and mark who to call for help, because no matter how you try, you will always find that the task is larger than you and fraught with unexpected delays. Next schedule play time, either for yourself, your dog or your kids. Regardless whether you a lot an hour or two leave room for a nap. Because big meals makes adults sleepy, kids wear out fast and dogs like to lay lazily in the sun. Next mark down chores to be done. A lot time for each then double it and add lots of soap and water. Because no matter what you want to sweep, dust, mop or clean up, something will always get spilled or spotted all over what ever you are working on. Lastly but in no wise unimportant, make alternate plans for your dinner, for as much as you might know how to cook, pizza delivery is always a lifesaver when you try to plan your day.

Life is a puzzle that we have to put together. The pieces do not always fit the way they think they should. One part seems to go one way, then a different piece comes from somewhere else to take it's place. Try as we might, we cannot figure out the whole picture. Only in bits and pieces do we get to put a life together. Sometimes we must take the puzzle apart and try to fit the pieces together again. The only thing of which we can be sure, is that we can only put life's puzzle together one piece at a time.

The light of the sun comes down in chutes of gold as it finds it's way between the branches of giants. The ancient trees stand as sentinels reaching to the sky and marking time of everything that happens around them. Lesser plants adorn the forest floor and share space as each reaches for the golden rays of light. Ferns sit side by side with Blueberry plants as they grow silently in the shadow of the trees. Well worn trails can be seen between the sparse vegetation running between the might trees too and froe. If you sit on a rock and watch quietly, you may catch a glimpse of a fawn drinking from a cool stream as it winds it's way through a gully or rocky bed onward to the sea. A few moments in the heart of nature gives a soul perspective and lets you relate to how much a part of the world you really are.

Born out of a larva, set for a purpose. Only knowing what it must do. No freedom of thought for itself. Living a short span while avoiding being swatted or squashed under someone's shoe. A bug is often resented and called ugly. Much disdain is held for the lowly insect, but for the set purpose the bug is important. For without the insect, many things would not be possible. Fishing would be boring without the joy of watching a child trying to hook a cricket. Flowers would not bloom unless a bug pollinated them. Then you could not give your wife Roses when you forgot your anniversary. So though the life of bug may seem short lived and mundane. It is a very important life indeed.

I was born of human frailty, and ****** into the heart of life's raging battles. My strength was tempered in the fire of oppression. My soul was purged through the need to sacrifice. I have carried burdens and I have been weighed down with fears. My mortal strength often fails, but my spirit has been purified as Gold through the furnace and silver through the fire. I am tempered and unblemished made ready for the master forgers hand. I will be created in the image of perfection, what ever the master determines that to be. I will be purified and made whole a vessel for the service of the greater good and worthy to inherit the kingdom to come.

Myself, myself oh frustration with myself. I am my own worst enemy. I find that I'm my own worst critic. I am always the most critical and angry with myself.

The cold air fills your lungs and the snow blows up around you. From the top of a peak, you look down on an ocean of white. Setting your sights on the far run below, you jump up and tear out into the white sea. Swishing this way and that into the cold powder, you come alive hitting bumps and taking the air like an unguided missile. You crash down with a crunch and cut through the layers of frozen covering as you head for the valley below. With the anticipation of a child on Christmas morning, you feel the wonderful delight as you finish your run. Then you look back over the land and see the trail you blazed, then you inhale the thick richness of the cold air and head back up the mountain with anticipation of doing it again.

To draw in a net of righteousness is to understand the first order of mercy. Service above all else is the command for our commission upon the sea of souls that long to know freedom. We set sail on a journey and want to set an example, but we are cast adrift from our true course. The cares and worries that we carry inside of us are often too great to bear on our own, so we must return to the place where we were found and learn how to mend our nets. By following the lessons of the master fisher, we will regain the control of our ship and right our course. Thus we will draw in our nets filled with souls yearning to hear the truth and to be set free from the ******* of the ocean of sin.

Jetting out of the water on their tails, cackling at the birds that fly over head. Racing against mighty ships and small boats. Diving under them and back up again. Roaming the open sea unimpaired, Dolphins perform a ballet. Tricksters and noble creatures, they call to each other and flutter through the waves. Dancing over the swells, the elegant creatures swim in splendor, oh to see the Dolphin dance.

Dressed in black stockings and white lace she parades down the aisle to her betroth. Carrying a scent of passion as her breast heave against her bodice, she flicks her black and silver streaked hair to one side. With eyes like two cold blue Diamonds and lips as red as wine, she enticed the unsuspecting man to her side. At the stroke of midnight beneath a silver moon, they take their vows in the presence of her coven. Her sisters look on with glee at that which will soon be. Chosen for his worldly gifts and abundance of treasure, he will find heaven and hell in one night of pleasure. A Potion of seduction is given in the bridal cup, just a few sips, that will be just enough. He is enthralled with his new wife, but alas he should beware for his life. In the wedding bed he knows her flesh, he receives her lovers gift unto death do we part. When the morning light comes, his love has grown cold, as his enchanting bride scream in tears. Her husband is dead, how could this be, a spell cast by his witch bride you see.

Beaten with stripes of a sinner, bruised as a reed beneath the heel of oppression. Crowned with mocking thorns, hanged on a tree for our sins. Unjustly persecuted and reviled, the lord gave up all. On the cross he surrendered to his affliction, abandoned even by the father above. By his affliction we find redemption in Christ undying love.

Reaching into the sky grasping at the nothingness. Pulling on a string and watching a kite sail. Running into the breeze but holding nothing nothing. Drawing a sail to its full height and feeling the motion pushing my boat forward. Jumping off a mountain top and letting a glider dive then push up with the draft from the valley below. Rising into the sun before zipping past the clouds. Wrapping myself and the one I love in a blanket as the cold ocean breeze blows through her hair. Catching the wind in so many ways and enjoying the nothingness of it's existence as it fully touches my life.

Everything is one thing and all things must be equal. No thing can maintain an unequal state for long, until something else comes along to restore balance.

Glistening on the runway, turning for a profile, walking up and down in heels, this is just our style. Immersed in glamor, should I wear sequins or a backless dress? It can be quite confusing, I must confess! Hair styled in unbelievable ways, often defying gravity thanks to enough hair spray. Eyeliner and rouge to highlight the correct lines on a model's face. The lighting must be perfect, everything is in its place. The DJ gets the cue and the music gets to start. The curtain opens and everybody plays their part. Delighted fans take pictures and get lost for a while. They have to come here to see what near perfection can be achieved with a proper sense of fashion and style.

Running away from my fears, I crawl deep inside of myself, only to be confronted with conscience. I am forced to deal with what I have locked away. It terrifies me and I look for another place to hide. In plain sight I look for ways to avoid having the conversation with myself. Try as I might, the voices inside of me, won't let me avoid the confrontation. So I use what ever I can to distract myself in order to escape confronting my own demons that have been demanding resolution for so long.

The stars are out, the stars out oh come you spirits and rise. The joy of evening is upon us, the cruel sun has met it's demise. In fading light, the evening comes, the pin holes in the curtain of night give gentle repose. The silver moon can now rise and coolly shine on our dance. Hearts leap and shades skim across the water. Silent lakes and deep quiet rivers are their play grounds. Lapping at the water as they skirt quickly across scarcely leaving a trace that they were there, only a brief glimpse of a reflection to remember them by. The flowers have wilted into their shells as crickets serenade and night owls keep watch. Fire flies dance and children laugh in the days fading light. All is alive thought a dark curtain has fallen. Life does not stop at the suns going down. Only the cool of a faint shade of darkness rest on the land that part of the world can sleep while the rest in twilight can play.

Anchor fast to the rock of your hope. Set your self on solid ground. Close your emotional boundaries and build the wall of solitude. Face the fierce gales of discontent! Hear them howl and beat at your fortifications. Change not your course, but hold fast to your values. Steady yourself and focus on the horizon. The darkness may be deep and the emotional turmoil may weary the spirit, but there is light that comes from the new dawn. Hope is in it and the purity of it shines through the discontent, bringing you guidance as you whether the storms of life.

People scream for help but it falls on deaf ears. The rulers adorn themselves in finery but abhor the unwashed masses. In fortified cities that gleam of white marble and steel, they make plans and dictate what they think life should be, while outside the high walls and vaulted towers, the reality of life is ignored. Who cares about high ideals when you have nothing to eat. What are principled arguments when a baby is sick and dying? The people speak but they will not hear, the poor complain but they will not see. So why won't they listen, who can really say?

Hear the melody that the wind plays as it blows through the reeds of the marsh. Listen to the wind echo as it whistles through the tree tops. Hear the howls of the breeze that rushes down the cracks in the aged mountain that stood before man was. Hear the song of the wind chimes as the wind toys with them as they dangle from the front porch of a family's home. Like a conductor of a symphony, the wind directs many songs and plays many tunes on various instruments. In a harmony that we seldom respect or take time to enjoy.

The world is filled with trouble as those who cling to the past gasp at the dying of some old ways. Knowledge increases and new things are imagined everyday. Some want to go backwards and take us with them, while others create the future and seek to better the world. Two arguments are being made, but only one can win out. All things that are past cannot be forgotten, but they will not stop progress. Tomorrow will arrive and become today. New ideas will flourish and amazing things will come to pass. Those who refuse to change will be left behind as the rest of us move forward and see what tomorrow brings.

Taught to hustle at an early age. Learned the code of silence and a gangsters ways. Making money as fast as I can. You got to have a gun to become a man. Hoping not to die before I reach seventeen. Trying to forget some of the things I have seen. Living my life by the hustlers code, giving nothing and taking what ever I want. Let others sacrifice for the state, getting what I want cannot wait. Learning hard lessons just to survive, having to grow up street wise.

I cast off the main line and pull the anchor up. I turn the rudder hard out to sea. The canvas is unfurled and the sail blooms full on. Her majestic colors can be seen on the horizon. The hull is smooth and trim, taking on the white breakers. I push on as I head for the trades. Down south where the water is Emerald green and the beaches are white and pure. I have broken the shackles of the mundane life that held me fast. No more time tables or deadlines to meet. On fast moving currents into open oceans I go. I find the sun setting and it takes my breathe away. The first star of the evening marks my path as I head to adventures unknown. Forgetting my cares and not worrying about tomorrow, I live for the here and now. I watch as my sail turn full to the south and the trade winds catch me, homeward bound to a place I have never lived, finally just slipping away.

When you stop to say a prayer, please remember Steve. When you take though to care, please remember Steve. When you are feeling sad, please remember Steve. When your day is going bad, please remember Steve. When you are struggling with life, please remember Steve. When you find hope and light please remember Steve. In all things you are thankful for, please remember Steve.

I wanted to speak what was on my mind, I turned my prose inside out and inverted my verbs. I reversed my pronouns and skewed my adjectives in an attempt to express myself. I turned my a sentence backwards, then upside down until nothing made any sense. It was only when I looked at it all in a mirror, that I was able to express my thoughts.

Curds and Whey taken from churned milk. Filling molds and sitting in the dark. Taking on distinctive flavors and unusual shapes. Turning into colors and hues of every imaginable kind. Some are delicate and some are full of holes. Some are briskly sharp and some will take your breath away. Some are well aged and come are only a few weeks old. Some are the stuff of legend or nightmare depending on your pallet. Cheese, a delicacy shared by both kings and commoners. Versatile and useful, cheese.

I writhed in my bed, powerful visions stirring in my head. I broke out in a feverish sweat. My bed covers were soaking wet. I felt the passionate kisses, I wanted it to fulfill all of my ****** wishes. I felt it move from my feet to my face, I had to wake up and see my lovers face. Just as I was about to look into my lovers eyes, I felt the touch of a cold nose. I awoke to find that my dog had been licking me and has slobbered all over my bed and clothes.

Water drips down from a damp rocky face. Drip, drop, plop it goes. Settling into  small pool far down in a mossy spot below. The water drops until the pool overflows and trickles down over small rocks. The trickle moves on quietly, gurgling slightly every once and a while. It simply moves forward slowly, not knowing where it must go. As the former drops move as a trickle, they join with other trickles that become a stream. The stream washes over rocks and through crevices in a mountain pass. The flow moves on to be a river which becomes mighty and a force to be reckoned with. Even if it is dammed up, it is only for a while, then it proceeds on again. This is the way of movement or ideas. They start small, but are joined into the thoughts and spirits of others until the must be reckoned with and often bring a force for change, what ever that change may be.

Burn in tribulation and let the fire purge your soul! Walk into the flames of trial and let yourself be made stronger. Let the old constructs be destroyed and new ones be forged from the molten core of your being. Become as Gold or Silver from the smelter. Dust off the afflictions and take your place in a new creation, where you will become what you are destine to be.

Giving flowers to a friend for no reason. Encouraging someone who feels they have reached a crossroad. Reminding someone that they are loved. These are simple acts of kindness that are part of giving joy.

When I was young and full of wonder, I set out to change the world. I went forth to make things right only to find that life got in my way. As I struggled along my path, I found my goals fleeting. Until one day I looked into the mirror and saw my hair had began to turn Grey. In this moment I felt as though I had failed in my hope. So I resigned myself that it could not be done. As I lay down to rest one evening, my eyes fluttered with sleep. As the shades of night fell over my face, I felt myself pushed backwards. I woke up to the sight of a younger version of myself as I helped a woman cross the street with her children. I saw her look back in gratitude as she walked away. I then moved forward to a house that I helped build. It was a small home, but it was given to a family in need. As I lay there dreaming, I saw the path of my life with each passing day. I noticed little things I had done along the way. Helping people in some small way, I awaken with a new found knowledge, I truly had changed the world, but not as I had envisioned with a grand plan or ingenious scheme, but simply by being there with kindness, to help one person at a time.

If you gaze into the heavens, you can see many clouds. They come in different shapes, colors and sizes. Each cloud has a purpose, but is not bound by borders. They join together easily and do not fight over space. They shield us from the sun and deliver rain to us. They can be fierce and gentle depending on the situation. The clouds can sit lazily or move quickly depending on the wind. They take up and give back only keeping what they need. They change often transforming from one thing to another. The sky is their domain, unless they come down as a morning mist. All places they do call home. With no borders or reasons to hate, they work in concert will all things for the good and the ill. If we could learn a few lessons from them, then perhaps we would do better for ourselves.

To each of us there is a refuge, for each of us there is a safe harbor. To others it is not always obvious, but in a quiet place we find comfort. To some it may be faith, to others a good book. To some their labors for the good of others is a gateway to peace, while others may seek to do nothing but reflect on their inner selves. What ever your refuge, each of us has a place where we find hidden solace from our troubles.

On a cobblestone street in a quiet part of Savannah the rain cleanses away the dust and opens up the senses. When I walk down the old path, I smell the fragrant scent of Jasmine after the spring rains. Memories rush back to better days and to light hearted times where love was not a stranger to me. When a special person held my heart before she gave it away. To be caught in the moment with the scent of youthful joy only comes when the southern Jasmine gives remembrance to me.

True friends are not made in one day, weaving a relationship takes years. True friends become a part of each others lives. They are willing to sacrifice and help at a moments notice.  They do not judge our faults but accepts us for who we are. They are all ways willing to just listen and not offer their advice. When we are successful, they rejoice with us and when we fail they will lift us up. In life to have a true friend is to hold a priceless treasure, for true friendship is a rare gift indeed.

Oh ****** tree that is reviled and stands alone among the sinner. Oh wretched plank upon which the perfect Lamb was slain. If you only knew the burden that you bore, you would crack and splinter asunder. Upon your rough limbs was hung the most precious of all things. The blood that covers you was for cleansing and sins burden was placed upon the shoulders of the man who was hung upon you. So now is the moment, when the blood and water flowed from the side of the innocent that you bore up. So now let you oh ****** tree, become an emblem of forgiveness and victory for the hour of atonement has come.

Shaved ice falls down upon me as blue streaks melt out of my hair. The sea thunders on rocks that form a jetty and I walk in silence with nary a care. The heat of the sun seems unbearable to some, but it makes me feel alive. Though the heat can be torturous to some, it keeps me sane. The board walk gets hot and burns my feet, but it is just another reminder that I am real. These days I need much more of that than usual , if it is only pain, I am just glad I can still feel something.

Giggles and snorts, howls and pleading for me to stop. That is what I get when I make funny faces. To a 5 year old that has little self control, contorting my expressions are like a living amusement park. Sitting for hours each day, make a young child laugh. The power of the uncontrolled joy passes too quickly. Regardless of the age, the laughter will always be a treasure, something that over writes the painful times of watching a precious child grow up.

Speaking with dissent and objection, turmoil erupts among the masses. The tides of public opinion are swayed by pundits and spin doctors that twist the facts to suit a narrative. Until the people are worked up into a froth, the hidden agendas are not satisfied. Only when the power brokers get what they want by deception and misdirection will they be content, but only for a little while, at least until they trouble the waters of society again.

Long have I traveled and far have I come. I have stopped to help many a wayward soul. In life's storms and through tragedy I have kept up the good fight I have given of myself all that could be ask and perhaps a little more. Now as I grow weary, I look for a place to rest and seek to find my way home. I have carried my banner and stayed the course, now I long for rest. To again know the warmth of a fire and the blessings of friends around me. Through one last night and over one more hill, I will finally come to the journeys end.

If I offer compassion to those that hate me, what will it accomplish? If I find the hopeless and give them kindness, what will that achieve? To give of myself and my wealth to those that have nothing, will it change a thing? If you believe in nothing then the answer is no, but if you believe in something, then yes there will be a gain. For mercy begets other kindness, though you may not see it. Though the one to whom you are merciful may not be grateful, the act of being merciful is seen by others. When your actions makes another rethink their actions and deliberate what they believe. Then a change can begin to take hold. Evil can be undone from with in. A cruel ideology can be reevaluated. One lowly person can accept your actions as a different way to live. Thus a repeating of what you have done, is what mercy shall gain.

Filled with rage at the stupidity of others. Seething with the lust for their blood. Wanting to slash and cut deeply into the heart of the problem. Cursing at the existence of people too stupid to live. Daring anyone who crosses my path to speak an ill word so that I might unleash my fury on their inferior intellect. All filled with rage and hate, looking to find a way out. Then I look into the mirror one more time before I go and realize that all the things are me.

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

Pose for the flashes and give them what they want. Become surreal life an image trapped in time. Walk the way your supposed to and become the thing of fantasies and dreams. You are one of a kind, you are for the moment. You are a face in the crowd, the one the crowd wants to be. Give away all that you are and just a little bit more. Bask in the limelight and  become dissected as the Paparazzi pull your every move apart. Looking for that fatal flaw, trying to find your more human side. You are part of the image, you are the trend that others have set. So smile for the camera and enjoy your fleeting moment in the sun.

An empty hole has formed in my heart. I am torn to pieces with desire and anguish. To want something so bad and to know it doesn't want you, this is the epitome of irony. How long can I go on? What will ease the sense of loss? Perhaps a long journey, to a foreign land where I do not understand their tongue. Then I cannot be reminded of the loss I feel or hear the sound of her name. Alas, I must resolve to go on, knowing that I cannot attain the thing I most desire. I only pray that I do not see her in the arms of another, this would again wound my heart beyond repair. Though there are no physicals scars to show my injury. I feel the pain down to my core. I ask heaven the question that I cannot answer, why does love hurt so much?

Rising up like an unsure Eagle testing the wind for the first time, children walk on unsteady legs of youth. Leaping out into life's currents they may jump back to the safety of their nest unsure if they are ready for a solo flight. Little by little they will step forward until like the Eagle they are soaring on the wind, sometimes they will encounter turbulence but eventually they will soar free and in time they will watch their own progeny follow on as they did, at first unsure when spreading their own wings.

The world moves around me and time marches on. The conflicts of life are abundantly clear. The turmoil of my emotions wants to overflow the walls of my soul. The forces of nature are all against me. While I am tempted to run away, I must not fear. In certain times, I must plant my feet firmly on the rock and watch as I stand still. It is in this hour when God will come to move. Though I might not see his hand, it will be there. Then just as quickly as the storms of live overtook me, a ray of light will pierce the dark clouds and all will be well, because I had the faith to wait on God, as I stand still.