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?

On a chestnut mare with a mane like gold dust, galloping down by a winding river. I lose myself in the motion of the horse as I feel the thundering hooves lift me off of the ground. With eyes closed, I hear the river rushing by and I imagine I am riding into battle. The horses snorts bring my heart to race inside my chest as I feel the morning sun on  my face. I open my eyes and lean forward taking tight hold of the reins. I kick the sides of the mare edging her on as the river narrows, I pull the reins right and jump across the deep rushing water, landing on a sand bar to the far side. With violent snorts the horse pulls up the steep bank and into the open field, where I again close my eyes in anticipation of a run to battle before my ride is done.

I sit a top a hill and listen to the sound of Steele at it rings. The sparks from blazing swords cut  through the night as fires burn to light the battle. I hold fast to the reins of my horse as I prepare to take the field. With lance in hand I hold my own destiny of which new generations will sing. I rally my comrades for my final push as I swear upon my fathers bones, I will reclaim his rightful throne and in my wake upon the rotting heaps of the dead, I will be crowned the rightful king.

I am smoke that rises and disappears into the air. I am the dried straw that lays on the ground. I am little and not much to see. I came and went as if I were nothing. I am a phantom before you, I am invisible in the light of day. I am part of the background when you are near. Oh how I wish you could see me.

Darting about in the water of a stream, following cool water into a vast deep lake, swimming in a vast school or exploring the secrets of a deep ocean, oh to be a fish who only needs to swim. I would lose all of my fear of water and jump for joy above the waves. I would hide under a cool rock and sit while the water rushes by me. I would have a simple life uncomplicated by the things that men and women are hassled with. I could spend a day exploring an underwater cave seeing what treasure a pirate might have left behind only to flick the glistening gold with my tail because it is worthless to me. My journey would be fascinating each day if I could be a fish, what fun that would be.

On a path that is straight and narrow, I will attempt to walk. Through valleys and dry places I will seek to go. Though I may stumble and fall, he will pick me up. I will follow the steps he has put before me as a guide. In his word I will be steadfast, to his calling I will adhere. Being brave in my convictions as I go. Not wavering though death shall overtake me. I will follow Jesus, in his footsteps I will go.

Welcome to my funeral, won't you stay a while. They say I look so natural as I lie in state. I have such a pleasant  smile don't you think? I am dress up in my finest clothes, though I am a little stiff. You will have to pardon me if I don't shake your hand, I am just supposed to lay here and look rather grand. So won't you stay a while, and fondly remember me. Perhaps I put in my will, you'll have to wait and see. For now don't worry about me for I no longer feel a thing. Just enjoy the refreshments and know that I am glad you came.

There was a skinny girl who didn't eat too much. She was never satisfied with how she looked. Despite being really thin, she tried to be skinnier,eating only what she needed to stay alive. She got to a point where she was as thin as a nail, but still she wasn't satisfied. Then one day she went to her mirror to see what she looked like. When she tried to look at herself, she found that she was finally so thin, that she could only see herself if she turned sideways.

If the skies went silent and the streets were empty of cars. If restaurants simply closed down and all of the air traffic went away. If we all stopped fighting for just a few days and just stayed home, what would the world say? If Americans all took a vacation and had a few days off, would it spread terror through our leaders and what would it actually cost? To just sit in silence and be with our loved ones. To just sit on our porches and listen to the rain or lay out for a while in the sun. Just imagine what it would be like, imagine the utter shock, if we all decided not to work and took our power back.

If you see something that you find different is it ugly or pretty to you. If you see someone that is different, how do you judge their worth? If someone does not have the traits that are attractive to you, are they unpleasing to see. Where does beauty lie? Is it inside of a person or a thing. Something that might be an ugly rock can be polished into a beautiful gem. A person who is awkward at one point might be graceful at another. Where does beauty lie?  Is there a set scale that truly measure it, or are there many things that must be accounted for? Where does beauty lie?

I want my life to flow like a wellspring , I want to put forth rejuvenating waters of hope. I want to be a fountain of knowledge. I want to be a stream of encouragement. I want to be a river of strength. I want to become an ocean of caring. I want to be a endless help to others. I want to water those around me and watch them grow.

Emotionally wounded, but not bereft of compassion. Tired but not defeated. I have seen the setbacks come and have walked through the drudgery of life. Things are not always clear and the path can sometimes be mired down with problems. Despite the afflictions, I know that there is always hope. For when I am at my lowest, I seek to pass on kindness to another. In doing so I restore hope to myself and prove that I am still human and that I am not empty as one might think.

I walk on a narrow road and often times I am on dark paths. The burdens get heavy and I often stumble. Despite the hardship, I am often lifted up, by unseen hands that are all around me. In the beggars house, I give the bread of life, to the lost soul, I bring the guiding light. In the barren fields of despair I plant a seed and watch as unseen friends help it to grow. In the middle of the storm when the enemy is at his fiercest, I simply kneel and watch as bands of helpers surround me. Under the shelter of their wings I am kept safe, by the angels that walk with me.

I am smothered by your attention, I cannot breathe. I am awash in your possessiveness and your constant need. We committed to share love,  now it is an ocean in which I swim. I am drowning in your love, when shall it end.

Piece by piece monuments are torn down. Brick by brick that which is distasteful is set aside from public view. Ignorance is bliss to the nay Sayers, as they writhe in discomfort at remembering past ideals. To some they are heritage, to others a stain on a memory. To all they are reminders of things that should be remembered. In taking down that which we dislike, we offend our children and hide our mistakes. Ugliness isn't always welcome, but it is part of who and what we are. To dismantle any part of it and pretend that it didn't exist, is to discount a part of ourselves, for good or ill.

Nature is full of wisdom. There are many things that we should not ignore. I found such a lesson when one day I decided to explore. I walked down a well worn path then I veered off the main way. I cut through some bramble bushes, then sat down by a small stream. To my surprise I saw a little bird sitting on a rock. The little bird didn't seem to notice me, it just kept tapping on the stone. I then noticed it had a snail it was trying to open up. I looked a little closer only to get quiet the start. With ruffled feathers and a quick chirp, the little bird warned me back. I fell over into the stream and gave a hearty laugh. While laying in the cool running water and the mixed up leaves and mud. The little bird landed on my chest, it had to get in the last word. With a few chirps and a screech thrown in for care. It read me the riot act then went back to it's rock, like it didn't have a care. So I learned a valuable lesson from my experience, that sometimes it is better to just let nature be. At least that is the message I got in no uncertain terms, from what a little bird told me.

Life is a wisp of smoke and a vapor that we must endure. Life passes too quickly and then we come to the end. As the leaf that falls from the tree, so we live and then pass. Our sorrows are only for a moment and our pain is only for a time, then it is gone. In anticipation of a better reward we live this life and look forward to the hope of tomorrow. That which is for both sorrow and joy passes as our mortal vessel dwindles and fades from the stage of life. We come and then we go, as the changing of the Summer to the Fall and then to Winter, this life and it's suffering it is only for a season.

Black, White, Yellow, or Brown the skin color matters not. Red haired, Blonde, or Brown hair one thing does not care. Tall, short, skinny or fat it bears no malice. In life there is no true equality, for we are all human and will always have a bias. Only in death is there equality. Only then are we all the same. Though we might be born to wealth or poverty, all of us die equally. The last act of the play of our life may be dramatic, or it may be peaceful but it is our end just the same. Once we draw our last breath, our part is done in this life. What comes after is open to interpretation, but in this one thing, equality is achieved. We are all mortal and we will all die.

The shadows fall over me and I can't seem to shake them. The clouds fill my eyes and I cannot see beyond my own door. I walk around in a haze and cannot find a light. The night and day are the same. Oh how I long to be warm again and to feel safe in my own skin. I cannot remember what day is like, nor the smell of fresh flowers. So to what ever power holds creation, please set my spirit free. Remove the chains of despair that hold me since my love left me. Let me walk again in the radiant light and let my misery be done. Oh how I just want to see the sun.

Blue Orchids bloom in the middle of winter as green Apples hang from frost covered trees. Gold dust falls out of seed pods and Diamonds glisten at the bottom of a half frozen stream. The air is heavy with the perfume of maidens playing silver Lyres as they watch the Blue moon pass the Red sun. The forest is filled with plain white birds and bears with Red and Yellow fur, paw in the water for fish the color of rainbows. All of this happens, as I sit quietly in a swing made from hanging vines covered in black Roses, in the land that came from my mind.

I will make my own mistakes, I will walk the path that I choose. I will have regrets, joy and fears. I will learn as I go and learn from others on the way. I will fill the pages of the book of my life. Whether it will be a Sonnet or a Tragedy, who can say. I will only know when I reach the end. I will hope to give more than I take and to be a giver of kindness instead of hate. I will be disagreeable and shall have to live and let live. I will hold true to myself and what I believe is right. I will strive to stay the course, even when others fall away. I know that things will not always be easy, but they may yet be worth the struggle. I will be my own person writing my own story.

The path of least resistance may seem like the easiest one to take. The dark road may cover up our sins for a while, but sooner or later we shall run out of path and end up in a pit. So is it not better to walk in the lighted path where you can see the traps and avoid falling into the pit?

The things of life are built upon clay and sand. They shift and are lost in a moment. There is a sure foundation upon which I will stand, the stone rejected by the builders that has become the head of the corner. In a life of perfection and humility, Gods only son became the rock of faith. In him there is no wavering, he sits four square on solid ground. Through his sacrifice he gave redemption. By his agony we are given hope. I will stand upon what he has become, he is the foundation he is the corner stone.

Monarchs do not come from mighty palaces, nor do they come from refined schools. Those who would rule, will not seek it. They must first learn to be a servant, for a kings life is not his own. They must not seek palaces or treasure, but the well fare of those around them. They must not exalt themselves, but must put others before them. They must seek wisdom not self aggrandizement. A king must be in touch with all peoples and not just those from he expects to receive gifts and favors.  Only a person who values law and justice more than station and honor will truly be a great king.

The walls are melting around me! I am screaming inside! I lie in a pool of sweat and misery! I want to feel the cool night air. I climb out the window and scale the walls like a fly. I drag myself to the roof and look back over the edge. I wonder if I can fly? Oh to see the day break and to know that sanity hasn't left me!. If I make it until morning, I think I will be ok?

The sound of keys echo down the cellblock. The footsteps of the officer follow in kind as time passes at a snails pace behind iron bars and stone walls. Looking out of a ***** window you get a sense of the hopelessness as the grey skies pass and the rain falls into a barren and lifeless yard. Nothing grows down there but a few scraggly weeds. It feels like your in a pressure cooker and that something has to boil over sometimes. Yet the days drag on and the bland colors of cement and steel drain the life out of you little by little. You grasp at every thread of sanity you can imagine, but in the end all you hear is the familiar echo of keys and the foot steps of a never ending watch. The pieces on the chess board occasionally change, but the game remains the same. Sitting behind the walls and fences stuck in a lifeless room, waiting on something to change as you die a little each day.

Breathe deep and hold it fast. Sit in total silence for a moment. Listen to your heart beat then release and let your soul fill again. Life starts back and the heart settles from racing. In that single moment you ended and started again. Hold your breath, and just listen.

The lines have been drawn between rich and poor and black and white. We are separated by ideologies and theologies. The power brokers want discord the war mongers want to prophet from our misery. When we are divided they get rich off of our suffering and tell us they will resolve our issues. The true division lies with in ourselves and only we can solve the problems. Help another build a home. Cook a meal for a neighbor. Get to know people whom you have never met then they will not be a stranger. Set up your own way of being kind, mend broken fences and cross over the diving line.

Open up the doors to the grandest hall and invite the poor and the unwanted. Set before them a feast and offer them gifts. Provide music and laughter because they don't know what is hear after. Tomorrow is likely to be another grim and sullen day. So for now show them that there is joy. Let their hearts be light and free. Throw a party for those who have nothing to celebrate and let them see how good life can truly be.

I walk by a lake and look at the clouds. I see the leaves losing their hues of Green. I remember what it was like when you walked beside me. Now I am not sure how I feel. I hold an empty space inside that I am trying to fill. I look to recapture the old magic that we shared. I stop and stand by an old stump as I watch the lake lap at the shore line. I close my eyes as the breeze touches my cheek and I imagine that it is your hand, as I fall back into old memories and try to fill a void that was left in me when you went away.

All that come into the world must walk a path. At the beginning we are guided by others and circumstance, then we choose our own directions. In the end we all end in the same place, some sooner than others. In between, the things we do are what make the journey. In looking back, we can see a life of service or one of selfishness. We can see a legacy or a tragedy. We do not always get to choose every direction, some times choices are made for us by unforeseen obstacles, but we still have the ability to live our what is in our hearts despite the things that get in our way. So though we all must take life's journey, we still have a say in how we will live it.

Standing on the sideboards of a corral, looking down at death. Two thousand pounds of fury sits just six feet away. With what some call nerves of steel and others call insanity, a cowboy straddles a bull that they say can't be broken. Earning a name like Loco Rios or the Widow Maker, the bull snorts as the cowboy tightens up the leather strap into his glove. Taking a second look at the man holding the gate, the hand is lifted and the dust begins to fly. All of his senses ask why the hell he is here, while his heart races and his sense of adventure, says that his body is just along for the ride.

When all of my pain is gone and I am finally at rest. I will not remember what I have been through. All that I will see is peace and beauty, for my trials and suffering will have passed. In an hour appointed, I shall take a trip, to a far better country. In lands of green pastures, clear waters and eternal day I will rest. Take no thought for me, for I will feel no more sorry. In the land beyond eternity, where I will cry no more.

Into each others arms we are swept. Embracing as two hearts beat in unison. Holding each other as only lovers can. We feel the warmth of each others spirit as our souls unite. In the falling of twilight we embrace in a closeness that few can know. We become shadows in the fading of day. Let us dance into love in our own special way.

A child is diagnosed with cancer and they say all hope is lost, because the parents can't pay the bill. Then a place is created, where there is no cost and the little child is saved. A mother has no home and no place to stay. Her husband drank up all of his pay. She is cold in hungry with her children, begging in the street. She considers looking through the trash just to find something to eat .Then a stranger sees her and offers her a hand, she is taken to a place of hope, where you can start again. The people don't ask any questions, they simply mend broken lives. They put her back her back on her feet and make everything all right. An old person lives in solitude, their years have flown past. No one comes to see them, they have been forgotten and are alone. They live in a house that is falling down and have no where else to go. A neighbor sees their predicament and wonders what they can do. Then they join with a few others and before they are threw, the house has been made whole and the lonely person has new friends. The problem has been taken care of and it has happened once again. Kindness has found a way and opened up a path, for someone to make a miracle happen just because they were willing to act.

Oh Starry night grant me repose, for my soul is burdened down. What trouble lies in wait for me in the darkness, only the pail light of the jewels of heaven looking down to bear witness of my weariness. Oh sleep come to me, for I am sorely lost. I see only darkness and little of the pail light. Please oh shroud of forgetfulness find me and bring my soul to remembrance of a gentler time. Oh Starry night that bears witness to my suffering, call now the night shades to spirit me away from my trouble and end the suffering of my soul.

Is one human life more precious than another? Are people in America anymore deserving than people in Sudan? Why are you in need of special consideration and another not? When you decide that your voice needs to be heard, stop and think of those who have no voice and who's lives are just as precious as yours.

Patients and time with caring and understanding, slowly the thing crystalizes. Taking form under pressure and anticipation, it grows . Some Gems form quicker than others, but the rarest ones may take a lifetime. A Jewel called love is a precious stone indeed and is not easily found and once obtained is fiercely guarded against any who might want to steal it away.

Lusting after the flesh, coveting the best of everything, these are mortal sins. Boasting that you can do it then doing it to prove the boast and delighting in the feeling of being right. Such is the way of being sinful, such is earthly delight. We are told to be pious and forgiving, but holding a grudge is so much fun. Getting even can be delightful, as you see others lives come undone. So let the saints suffer in silence, some of us may just give in. Perhaps we will repent tomorrow, but today we are about to sin.

In an array of bright colors in the light of the morning sun, when the cool air begins to fade and the fog lifts leaving dew drops on the petals of flowers that form a tapestry of color. The sky becomes bright with layers of color as butterflies rise on warm air. Swirling too and froe in the wisp of air, they leap from flower to flower taking great care. They land on dew drops that hang like jewels glistening in the days new light. As they finish on one blossom they rise to seek another, creating a winged rainbow as they dodge in and out between one another. Thus is a symphony formed on the warm summer breeze, with the dance of the butterflies and they live for a beautiful short moment in the sun.

Show your appreciation for those who serve your interest, even if you don't mean it. Take notice of the insignificant person, if they can serve your needs. Keep your admirers at arms length, but always be polite. Never give more than you expect to receive, except to those who can benefit you. Take no offense, but always keep a dagger for when a back is turned. Talk subtly to those whom you loathe to keep them in your corner, until its time to take revenge. In all things put yourself first and only make a promise if it isn't inconvenient or costly. Be clever as a Fox and cunning as a Serpent and always keep a scape goat for emergencies. Do all of this to perfection and cruelty will become second nature to you.

Twist my arm and squeeze my breast, claw my back and slap my face! Hold me down and pierce me hard! Twist my ******* and bite me, reduce me to the basest form of pleasure. Use me and abuse me make me like your love. Hurt me in ways I never thought of, give it to me rough! Show me tortured pleasure, do it over and over again! Pay no attention to my whining, let my pleas fall on deaf ears and just make me scream!

Be patient and let me begin. Let me strip away the layers of who I am. Let me show you the complex disguise I use to hide my scars and pain. Let me take away the battle armor that protects my inner self. Let me remove the barriers to who I really am, let me disrobe for you so you may know the real me.

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.

My breath grew short and I began to feel faint. I was awash in a sea of blackness. Then I felt a hand grab me and pull me to the side, I saw a fuzzy figure, but could not discern who it was. In a moment of desperation, I ask who the person was? The only response was I receive was that I am a friend and a foe. I was puzzled for a moment, still in a confused state. I had been in a dark empty void, now I was no where and somewhere. I asked the ghostly image, why I am I here? It responded, I am not truly sure, I only know this is where you are supposed to be. Time passed, but I had no sense of it. Then the shadowy figure said that it was time for me to go. As quickly as I fell into the black void, the light surrounded me. I remember passing quickly through many layers of light. Then my eyes opened and I was back on the mortal plain, people hovering over me, working on me. I went black again, but not like before, this time I only slept. In one moment of a dream, I caught a glimpse of the former ghostly figure that I had briefly spoken with. I then awoke and had clarity of mind. For a brief moment, I had a talk with death. In truth a friend to some who are seeking it and an enemy to those who are not ready for it, and ever so often, a temporary stop on another part of a life's journey.

On the road we travel there will be bumps and detours. In all things be persistent. Seek knowledge and covet wisdom. Use these treasures to help others and as a road map to life. At the end of the journey take stock of whay you have done. With hope that you have given more than you have taken out of life.

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

In a desolate waste where little life can exist, skeletons of what was once great litter the landscape. Remnants of iron beast sit and rust under a pail sun. The cold wind chaps the fractured frames of buildings long since abandon. What few people that are left shuffle through the desert that once was prosperous. They shiver at the rattle of metal carcasses that shake and quake as their last few welds and bolts begin to corrode apart. In what was once mighty city, before it was gutted by political leeches, many look  on in despair as what is left of hope fades away.

Ice hangs from the trees as worn paths are hidden behind a white sheet of snow. Everything glistens in the faint light that breaks through sliver and white clouds. An Owl can be heard calling in a distant grove of trees as it hides in the dark wooded cavern. The streams are frozen but you can hear them creak and groan. The North wind weakens and begins to subside blowing snow drifts in to blinding curtains of white. Ever so slowly the earth turns around and begins to shift. The hand of the cold miser that counts every snowflake begins to loosen its grip. A South wind comes in and the clouds begin to part. The towers of frozen water falls with Ice that hangs down like the Columns  of a Cathedral begin to drip. Trickles come together and form small streaks of water that cut grooves in the ice. Day by day the cold recedes, until foot prints that were frozen into the ground begin to turn into mush. The forest begins to lose it's sheen of silver and brown limbs spring up as the weighty snow falls off. They reach ever higher for the sun as they embrace it's warmth. As the last vestiges of white evaporate, small buds appear as sap rises. Winter falls away and spring finds it's place again.

When we have fallen and can't seem to get back up. Perhaps kneeling is where we need to be. Despite our feelings that we have really messed up, there is still grace for you and me. God does not close his door to those who truly seek him. We are human and many mistakes we will make. We are the ones who deny him and refuse to accept his gifts, of forgiveness and redemption. So when we walk away from God, he weeps for our troubled soul. Though we might be miles away, his grace does not end.