Curse my mortality, shame is it upon me. I can not bear the grief that my own desires bring upon me. Temptation and the delight of pleasure, if even for a brief while. These things make me at odds with the celestial powers. What is man, but a bundle of emotions? Desires that rule our reason. If we are hungry then we seek to eat. If we are lonely, then we seek company. Not in the sense of spiritual comfort, but in the worldly things that give such as this. Alas all of this is temporary, for again we have a mortal self. That which gets in our way and causes us to stumble. If not for divine dispensation, we would die of our own lustful ways long before fate had dictated our end.

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.

Burning with a passionate fire, revenge is going to be sweet! When he sees what he is missing, his jaw will drop to his feet. After weeks of preparation, and mascara that ran all day. I am stepping out tonight and its time for him to pay. In a dress he would never buy me, and an exciting pair of dancing shoes. I am going to strut my stuff and leave him singing the blues. I am going to be someone's eye candy. A hot looking potential trophy wife. I am going to rub his nose in it, you can bet your life! With a diamond white smile and lips of luscious red! I am going to put on a show that will knock him dead. Where I wake up in the morning will depend on how the night life goes. He will feel the heat of a woman scorned as he imagines someone else helping me out of my clothes.

Starlings chirp and call to each other as they dance on the wind. Robins sing and chirp among the greening branches of a Willow tree. Little Chickadees sing a bright tune as they play among the thorny leaves of an evergreen Holly. The wind whistles through the tree tops and the sound of a 1000 Sparrows comes alive as an orchestra. Music is alive in the world, we just often fail to take the time to hear it.

A stomach on fire from too many unsavory meals. Eyes that are permanently blood shot.  A narrow field of vision that only allows me to see the task at hand. Selective hearing that tunes out anything I do not like. An addiction to Aspirin and coffee. This must be what they mean when you are burning out.

On foreign fields and on streets back home. I wear a uniform and I am not alone. Brothers and sisters wear it and keep watch with me. We are vigilant on land, in the air and at sea. Our colors fly high, even though we are not always seen. We can be stealthy to take the enemy by surprise. Sometimes we want to be seen, so that others will realize. Coming after our freedom will carry a heavy price, even if it may cost some of us our lives. So when you see my brothers, sisters and me. Remember that no matter what the price, we will keep you free.

Looking up at a single pine tree growing out of a crevice. I find where I shall stop to rest in the shade. Just three thousand feet straight up, I grab the face of the sheer rock face and begin my climb. Pulling up with hands coated in white sticky powder, I feel the sweat begin to roll off of my brow. This is what I have been waiting for, this is that for which I trained. My ascent begins one foot at a time. I do not look back, I only look up, focusing on the lone pine tree that waits for me. With each and every hand hold, I rise another foot up the sheer incline. Not knowing how far I have come or how far I have to go. I only hug the cool face of the rock and pretend that I am one with it. Higher and higher I go, leaving the safety of level ground. The sun ascends with me, marking my progress with my own shadow, as if I were some kind of human hour glass. Then at a moment when my muscles ache and I am sweating beyond belief, a limb brushes my face and I reach my first goal. I slide up into the crevice and lay back under the shade of my new friend. I drink water that I have brought on the ascent. I gather my strength and sit contemplating that there are easier paths to self discovery, but ease of the journey is simply perspective and I still have half a mountain to climb.

Our bodies are far apart and yet are souls are knitted together. We said we would not part, but that was in another forever. I long to hold you and feel your gentle touch. Yet all I get to hold is empty space and it tears my heart to pieces all of the time. I know that you are frustrated, well so am I, but what can two people but slowly watch time pass by? I promise that this distance will not diminish how I feel. I want you to always know that my love for you is true. Until I can bridge the distance between us, I am not sure what else I can do.

Stick me with a pin and roll me around to make sure I am cold. Shed no tears for me, but throw me a party. Call all of my friends and spend what I have left you. Celebrate who I was for now I am gone. Remember me fondly and try not to over do it. I would like to see you again, just not that soon. So let the music play and let your heart be glad. I have lived my life and now when it is said and done. Let all who care to throw a wake for me and wish me well now that I have moved on.

People think that life is complicated, but it is really a recipe. Like making cookies or a cake, life requires a lot of whipping of the batter or kneading of the dough to smooth out the rough spots. All of the ingredients must be in balance in order for the batter to achieve the right consistency. The batter or dough must be poured or cut precisely, although it is sometime fun make things different shape. When the things of life  become complicated, just like the cake, go back to the recipe and read the instructions again. While life is happening, just like making cookies, take time to either lick the bowl or eat some dough. In the end with all confections as with life, the proof is in the pudding. If you have achieved balance, not left the food in the oven too long or dwelled on a problem too much, then you will have a great treat to eat, or wonderful times as long as you share with others either the cookies or life .

Looking into a mirror, I see my beauty fading. My eyes are showing signs of age. Youth is fleeting and my bones ache. A soul that was once vigorous is now weary. My hair has lost it's luster and I get cold all of the time. The warm sun does little to give me comfort,the bright light hurts my eyes. Loud noises disturb me and I just want to sleep. What has come over me I cannot say. The doctor can find nothing wrong, and yet my spirit finds no joy in life. If nothing changes I will just waste away. Were it over quickly, it would be a blessing, but unless I can will myself to cease to exist, I will suffer a slow death as my spirit loses the will to live.

Stepping into the heights of heaven, I walk along the misty ways. Where Eagles fly and the sun shines just a little brighter. From on a high peak where few will ever walk, I look back on the problems I left below. In quiet solitude I travel in contemplation of things that I want to know. I search for answers in the sky and the land around me. As I watch nature, I see that my footprints fade with each step, as I travel through the mountain mist, and leave no footprints in the clouds.

When you see an old woman stranded with a flat and you change it for her and ask nothing in return. When you take food to a neighbor who is down on their luck and leave it without a note. When you just sit and listen to someone's problems and do not say a word. When you give a few dollars that you can spare to a cause just because it feels right. When you think of the welfare of another with no thought for yourself. When an innocent man dies for all of humanity, with no one to help him out. These are some of the things that are God's love.

Down a cobble stone way over a bridge that arches over a clear cool stream, I met my future in your eyes. Way laid from my journey because you had a flat tire on a bicycle, I took a few moments out of my day to mend what was broken, the whole time entranced by your pure dark eyes. What should have been a quick trip became a life time journey, when I was capture by a magical creature who wrapped me in her web of love, one day on a stony road.

Vote for me, no Vote for me as the talking heads scream across my T.V. Irritated and inundated  with the latest accusation or scandal. My opponent did this and I didn't do that, it is more than one sane person can handle. While the world burns with so called wars, our radios and T.V.'s become political mind fields. Now longer and longer the winter comes making cold the public debate. As news pundits swoon over the next it person and the riders of so many an elegant leg jockey for a position. I must get up and go to work to pay the heavy taxes they promise they won't increase. Were election time like any other season, where a license must be obtained, before you enter my home over the latest episode of my favorite show or block my best sports team. As my head swoons and my insides turn into mush, I just pray for an end to this protracted political season that I have grown to despise so much.

Oh mountain that I cling to, sacred rock of ages. Rock of the foundation of all things, that is higher than I. Let thy name be exalted and given adoration, for thou oh rock are higher than I.

My veins are on fire, I need my fix. I sold all I had to get high last Friday. My family has cut me off, now I am left to do what I must. I sell what I have left and hope it is enough. My hair is a mess and I wreak of sweat. I sleep in fits and starts. I broke my grand mothers heart when I took her silverware. I was in need of a fix, I didn't care. I tried the rehab once but it wasn't for me. So now I sit on a street corner wondering what I will do to get what I need. I had *** with a guy in order to get a gun. Now I need to get some money to get my fix, before the day is done. My veins are burning and my hair is a mess, I am wondering what I will do next.

I turn on the news and all I see is confusion and discontent. People are enraged over the smallest things. Countries go to war for reasons that make no sense. They fight over money, or beliefs when there are plenty of both to go around. Life is sold for a bullet and love is thrown away. The fields of the world are littered with the poison of hate and the skies are black with death. Who is right and who is wrong only history can say. Instead of killing children, there should be a different way. Offer up your ideas and if someone likes what you have to say, then without the threat of violence, they can choose to live that way. Without fear of being tortured or having their life taken away. Let us simply agree to disagree and let it stay that way. Share what you have with another and stop keeping everything for yourself. Put down hate and violence and take love down from off of the shelf. When this becomes reality, think what kind of world we can create. A new and vibrant place, free from turmoil and hate.

Stay back, don't cross the imaginary line. Obey the rules and you will be just fine. Conform, become whatever you are told to be. That is how you are kept in check, that is how they control you and me. What if you step over, what if you go to the other side? They will discourage you; they will push you back behind the line. So, what is the point of living if you have to become what others want you to be? Isn't freedom an illusion that they try to sell to you and me. What if one day, we all just say fine! We all have decided that we will not conform, that we will not stay behind the line?

Majestic might and gentle creature thundering across the plain. Shaggy brown coat covered in snow from the winter cold. An unending line of history going  back to before man came to your land. Now so few of you remain. Misunderstood and taken from your people, who only visited you when they had need. In numbers too vast to count, once you covered the land. Like a dark carpet upon the earth you roamed. Here and there across open spaces of tall golden grass. Through deep running rivers you would go. Brining your young with you, measuring time by the way the snow would fall and the grass would grow. Now you dwindle and are pushed into history. Your proud line laid low. The spiritual symbol for native strength, the majestic Buffalo.

Covered in the darkest silk robes with lace gloves and silver chains adorning her face. Walking with footsteps that quietly echo like the brushing of stone from a sweeping broom. Her presence elicits both awe and fear! Her form moves beneath her dark veil , every motion is an inviting temptation to seduction. Her pail skin and dark lips offer a sense of foreboding. Her piercing eyes are full of longing, and the thoughts of wicked pleasures yet unknown. Many long to feel the sharpness of her Ebony nails, but few dare to try. For she is a dark mistress bound to a cruel and unforgiving lord, who does not like to share such peculiar treasures filled with other worldly delights.

Who is this man that was crucified. Who is the man who was pierced in his side. Who is the one who walked by the sea. Who is the one they called the Nazarene? Who is the one that was crucified between two thieves? Who is the man that they say rose from the grave. Who is this man who sought to save? Who could this man be? Perhaps this man is you and me?

For three days there was a hushed silence, and darkness across the land. The hope had been extinguished, the light had been snuffed out. The faithful were scattered and the powers that be rejoiced with glee. The man that had promised deliverance and to set the oppressed free had been defeated, or so it would seem. Then on a faithful moment, when the body gave in to pain. The spirit was set at liberty and so it all began. At first the ground shook, and the temple was set asunder. Then in the darkness, a light shone bright as new day. All sins had been forgiven and the stone would be rolled away. In one singular instance, all the oppressed of sin were set free. When the chains fell away, because the lord loved a wretch like  me.

Walking by the waters edge at the fall of twilight, you can see the silhouette of ships coming up the waterway into ports. They come with treasures from foreign lands, bringing their bounty to southern shores. The smell of the ocean stirred up by the evening breeze makes you feel alive. Lights come on at the water front as restaurants offer their wares, seafood freshly caught from the depths of the dark Atlantic ocean. Gulls cry over head as they catch the last bits of the sea breezes before heading off to some quiet perch to wait for the sun to come again. As night sets in, beyond the waterfront, rows of stoic houses from a time long past are lit up with gas lamps that cast haunting shadows over black iron gates. The Spanish moss hangs from old oak trees that have seen more than their share of life, like an elegant beard to be reverenced. The cobble stone streets make a tapping sound beneath your feet as you walk to a grand fountain just off of the main square. Then as the moon rises a golden yellow over the surrounding city, you can see the images of ghostly figures from the past walking as wisp from a different time. Then when you feel a night chill, you know it is time to take your rest in the comfort of cotton sheets with the window open towards the water, so that cool breezes can comfort you and the morning sun will wake you in Savannah.

When things go wrong, try to make them right. When people fail you fall back on faith. When you are prosperous, be generous to others. When you reach a goal, set a new one. When you feel sorrow, find a way to be joyful. When a friend rejects you, forgive them and show kindness to someone new. When one path is closed, turn around and find a new one. When you feel like you have gone too far, stop and listen quietly, God will be giving you a new direction.

In several pieces there was a broken doll. Once filled with beauty, she now lay shattered. Longing to be whole again, she wept as she lay still. Dust covered her pieces and placed her into forgetfulness. Then one day a man found her and gently picked up the pieces. With the care of a master craftsman he mended each part. When the last piece was set in place, he picked up his brush and returned her beauty. Then what was broken was made whole and put back to be admired and glisten in the sunlight for all to see.

Wind sweeps over buildings and past people. Glass and steel towers crumble and fade into the background. Those who walk in and out of them become ghostly images, caught in a photo of a moment in time. The wind keeps blowing, picking up bits of this and that. It wears away at mountains and uncovers tombs that once stood as great monuments, but are now nothing more than worn out pieces of rubble. What one man creates, another may destroy or simply neglect. All things come from the earth, iron, stone, and flesh alike. All are covered by time that a human cannot hope to measure. Mighty mountains and landscapes can sparsely keep up with the eons that pass. All things return back from which they came, as the dust of time collects and then is blown away into forgetfulness.

Exterior wounds heal and leave behind their mark. You can often have them fixed, but not what is on a persons heart. Wounds that are emotional, do take time to heal, but the scars that are left behind, will never disappear. When a dream of true love is shattered, because that person doesn't love you. When a child is lost to a parent, this is a grievous wound. When you offer up everything just to have your life torn apart. These wounds cut deeply into a persons heart. So though some may wear a battle scar with dignity and pride. The scars that we have inside of us are the ones that can make us cry. These are the hardest ones to deal with, the scars you cannot see.

The crowds gathered around the hill where three men were hanged on a the cross. Two were paying for what they had done and one was not worthy of death, yet he was sentenced anyway. As the hung between two sinners, and innocent blood was shed, a list was blotted out by the Crimson stain. Between heaven and earth in anguish a price was paid and on that rugged tree sin was crossed out for all who would believe.

Hopeless faces everywhere, lining up in cell blocks. More and more young people sent behind bars. Drugs again and again, no end to violence. Shootings rampant in minority neighborhoods, even with tough gun laws. Honest people can't walk the streets for fear of being shot for no cause. More and more are put behind iron bars to sit and wait for life to pass them by. Young lives wasted in a grey jail house. No hope for a future that is bleak. One group gets privilege, while another falls through the cracks of the system. Disparity in the sentence based on what kind of drug you were carrying. Guns are the answer to everything, shoot and **** with no reason. Getting life for a cheap pistol and a few grams. Grey are the walls and dark is the color of prison. Not the ones we build with concrete and steel, but the ones we create for ourselves by refusing to acknowledge the problem and change it.

I know that you have walked alone for a while, but I promise I will not be a bother. I know that you have a place that you need to be, but I will not get in the way of your destiny. I just want to stand by your side while you go on your path. Can I walk with you for a while?

Two glasses sit empty on the table. They bear the marks of last night. From the hue of red wine to pink lipstick, they tell of a wonderful time. From when we toasted to things that we can't remember until you kissed me passionately. The glasses tell the tale of what transpired between you and me. Once we drank only as friends, but that moment has passed. Because of the wine that stained the glasses, we have become intimate at last The glasses witnessed you laugh and they saw you cry. Your tears are on both of them as we both released what we held inside. So as we sleep silently entwined in each others loving embrace. The stained glasses wait silently to bear witness to what will come next.

This is it, tonight I will take flight. I am going on a trip and I might not make it back. Soon the pain will melt away and all will be well. My problems will be gone. Just a spoon some heat and soon I will feel the warmth through my veins. No pain just joy that may never end. Living is so hard, perhaps dying would be better. I am not sure, but soon I will know. Will I touch heaven or will I come crashing back to reality, no one can say for sure. What I do know is that I think I have it right. The mixture is perfect and I just need the courage to do it. I will just let the pain in a little more and it will push me over the edge. This time I think I will make it right.

So comes the dawn and new challenges arise. So comes the possibilities that renewal brings. The old has passed away and day has broken. Light shines in the place of darkness. Rested eyes have opened and look brightly at the clear sky. Hearts leap with elation at what might be achieved. Doors lay before the traveler that have yet to be opened. The keys to new adventures may well be in hand already or perhaps are waiting to be discovered. Hard labor is perhaps replaced with wisdom gained from past struggles, in the hope of lessons learned that the work will become a little easier, forward we go into the new day.

Hold my heart gently and do not let it fall. Tell me how much you need me each and everyday. Stand between me and the fury of the storm and comfort me when I have lost my way. Give me reassurance that things will turn out for the best. Confide in me your deepest desires and share with me all of your dream. Lift me up instead of tearing me down. Wipe away my tears and be willing to just listen sometimes. Understand my faults and accept me for who I am. Let me give love back to you and help you when I can.

I spill my misery into a cup full of tears and drink the bitter fruit of loneliness. My heart is filled with the poison of a broken love. I cast my eyes downward and let the tears flow. I have no life in me and my strength is spent, since you departed and took my heart with you. All that is left is the bitter taste of the cup from which I drink, that is seasoned with the salt of my tears.

I entered the halls of higher learning with anxious anticipation. I brought my ideas and thoughts. I approached the podium to speak, only to be blown away by fixed ideals. Set in a paradigm that was unyielding, the academics cut me to shreds. My ideas were pointless and my thoughts were beneath academic reproach. Thus I withered into a state of lamentation and paralyzed fear. What was I to do, how would I succeed. Then from the darkness of dusty tomes, I heard voices call to me. A man with a raven told me never more and someone named Red Chief told me to take my revenge. I heard a woman speaking poetry from her hidden garden and songs from the Mississippi filled my heart as a doddering old gentleman bid me good day. When I came out of my stupor, I realized that I should not fear the established way of things, but accept what I must do and become the spinner of words that I would like to be as many others had before me.

When your mind begins to wander and your heart questions is he really there? Take a moment and listen to the silence and seek out God in prayer. Open up your soul and ask him to give you reassurance. His presence will overpower you and peace will let you be still. In these quiet moments simply wait on him. He will come to you and release your burdens and give you rest.

Jump into life unafraid. Plunge into the deep end of the pool. Thrash about and fell your muscles burn. Find out that in life there is a lot to learn. Kick up a ruckus and turn the water white with froth. Test your arms and legs as you try to stay afloat. Become part of the ocean of people struggling to live. Join those living life and see if you sink or swim.

I drove my car as far as it would go, 100 thousand miles I had let it go. With only the most basic of work, because often I was flat broke. Then my shocks went out on a date and one pothole and my girlfriend banged her head. I was mortally terrified, because I thought she was dead. With only a large goose egg on the top of her head, at the hospital she said she loved me but that we could no longer date, not until I fixed my car. I whined and asked can't it wait. She gave me stern look as the nurse pushed her towards the hospital door, where she got into a cab and at that she said no more. So in utter frustration, I finally gave in and decided to visit the dealership for the service I had been putting off. If I had know what I was in for, I would have bought another car, it would have been cheaper than a tune up by far. When I entered the service bay, the floors were squeaky clean, the service attendant was very nice and I thought this isn't as bad as it seems. They filled out some paper work and I said what the heck, I signed my name on the dotted line and said give my car a check. I sat in their waiting room as if it were a delivery date. Then after two hours I met my mechanic, he said hi my name is Nate. He begin to explain to me all of the ends and outs, I barley understood half of what he was talking about. When at last he had finished, he said will all of this be ok, I just nodded a confused yes and he said great we'll get on it right away. For 2 more hours I sat in the waiting room, hoping that the nightmare would be over soon. Just I was about to fall asleep, a voice rang over the loud speaker for me to come to she service desk, from that point on, I can scarcely remember the rest. I saw the friendly attendant in the area with nice clean floors, when she handed me the service ticket it nearly reached to the door. In utter shock, I didn't now how I was going to pay, then as by magic she had my wallet and a credit card and she said we'll take care of this right away. So with my vehicle up to code and all of it's problems fixed. I no longer have a girl friend and I have no desire to date. For once I get my card paid off from the service on my car. I am pretty sure that I will be able to take a trip from here to Mars.

Stuck in black muck, idle for lack of trying. I am trapped in an inkwell and cannot get out. The pen punctures the surface of the icky goop, but I still cannot escape. Try as I might, I am stuck in the darkness. I see only brief glimmers of light each time a quill pierces the surface. Nothing is moving, I am stuck. I cannot just materialize on the page. The words that want to be written are trapped in the ink well and I can't get them out, and thus I am trapped with them going nowhere.

Eyes of deepest green with hair that is soft and brown. A laugh that can cause butterflies to smile. An inner light that is soft and caring, with a strength and firm resolve. A wit sharp as a razor and beauty that comes from with in. What a precious jewel a daughter like this is to see. To watch her become what she is meant to be. You only get to see her for a very short time.Then on to womanhood she must go. If only for a fleeting moment, you can enjoy her, what a blessing that is you see.

A Sequoya tree can live a thousand years, some turtles live to be 200 hundred. A mountain sits  for a million years and makes no effort to measure time. In the life of mortal souls we are but a glimmer of light. Yet we live as if we will not ever finish all of our work, before the sun sets on our lives. What is important, what is really of worth. How can we understand what we should wait for and what should be done now. We are human and impatient creatures with no concept of the meaning of tomorrow. For what seems important to us can fade as the glimmer of light that we are in the existence of the greater scheme of things. All we as mortal souls can hope for is to make each day our own. We must take little steps towards learning to wait for some of the most exquisite things that our lives have to give.  So be patient, the best is yet to come.

My eyes see planted fields ripe to harvest. Fall rows of corn an cotton glisten on a frosty southern morning. As I walk, I hear echos of past and sweet memories. Familiar shadows are cast by timeless beauty that does not change, held in the colored trees of Autumn. I hear the sounds of memories that are echoed in creeks and streams where as a young boy I found joy playing childish games. The spirits of the waters are too wild to tame. As I walk the old paths of childhood, I see these things in memories that bring Autumn's song back to me

Evergreen Pine Spruce and Cedar covered in decorative lights. Silver Bells and colored ornaments shining bright. Waiting for presents to be placed beneath on a quiet Christmas night. Christmas trees throughout the land giving children joyful Delight. Here for only a momentary season then they return from whence they came look for a few brief moments they bring joy to so many lives.

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.

My life is a piece of unmolded clay sitting on a wheel. I am not sure where I will go or what I will be. I sit patiently and wait for my life to take shape. With each passing day I seek to learn more. I study and pray for guidance. In each moment I strive to be better, looking forward to the day when I am complete. As Jesus slowly molds me, through his spirit and discipleship, I am becoming a worthy vessel for his habitation, as I am shaped by the potters hands.

On a steed as black as night, a lone soul rides out from the vaulted walls of the citadel to which he is assigned. Onward into the mist of the coming morning he rides. The heart of the horse and rider race in time with one another, onward the rider goes. Jumping over ditches instead of following well known roads, the message of such an urgent nature must get through. Beyond fields filled with herds of sheep and swine that have been released from their pens, on goes the rider into the coming dawn. Driving the steed until it's heart might break, through blurry eyes the messenger goes on. Finally the camp fires are seen on the line, as the rider approaches the sentry, the sign is given and passage is allowed quickly. As the rider jumps from the exhausted steed covered in a white froth from galloping across rough land, with legs numbed by the ride, the messenger collapses before the captain, with message in hand. Tearing the envelope asunder the young captain sees the news, to him a son has been born. With rejoicing he is elated as the messenger fades away.

Oh how I wish you could see what I see. Oh how I ask the divine to show you mercy. Oh how I weep for you and yet you do not know that you are in need. Oh how I plead with God to show you a better way. Oh how I long to see your eyes opened. I wait patiently everyday as I ask for help to come for you. I am humbled by the way you show kindness and smile, even though I know you need so much more than I can give. I pray often that your eyes will be opened and that you will receive Gods gift and live.

A loaf of bread takes a lot of effort to make. Finding the grains and crushing each seed to release what lies within. Then sifting the meal that comes from the grain, until it is refined. Depending on what kind of bread you want, you may blend many types of meal from many different types of grains. Once this is done, you can begin to make bread. Adding water and yeast to the meal more commonly known as flower begins the process. The doe is kneaded and tossed until it reaches the right consistency. The doe must then be given a chance to sit until the yeast has become active and makes the doe rise. Once this is accomplished, the doe is placed on or in a pan and put into a very hot oven. There the doe cooks until it is done and the bread is made. What seems to be a simple thing takes a great many steps to create something that is enjoyable and delicious. Why do we expect life to be any less complicated than making bread? Why can't we all be more like the bread and have so much in common as we all come from the basic seeds of humanity, we are just different in some ways, but can blend ourselves to make something wonderful?