In a desolate place that appears devoid of hope, I start to pick up pieces of paper and broken glass. With each bag I fill and send away, the ground becomes uncluttered. I move on to fixing fences and replacing pavement stones, then I paint a building. Through all of my toil, I have not noticed that things have changed, until I stop to wipe my brow and realize I am not alone. With each task I completed, someone saw me and copied what I did, until the word got around. One by one others came to join me, though they were not asked, they came anyway. A silent call went up and they saw my progress and wanted to be of help. With each act of kindness and each selfless deed, we moved towards the restoration of a once forgotten place. As I finally put my paint brush down and picked up my last piece of paper, I could swear that I heard children laughing at play. In the back ground I heard music and saw people dancing and then someone came up to me. I awoke from the dream and realized what I had seen. It only takes me to begin to rebuild hell and then God will send others to join in.

If I gave you my heart, would you keep it safe? If I commit my heart to you, will you promise not to break it? If I let my heart belong to you, will you promise not to share it with anyone else? If I open my heart to you, will you share your heart with me? If I let my heart be vulnerable, will you be gentle with it? If I let my heart love you, will you let yours love me?

A vast gulf stands between our souls. We each want something different and we cannot even agree to disagree. While we offer the Olive branch, the others rattle sabers and cry for war. It is their way or no way, even though we won the day. There is no surrender, only venom and vitriolic hate. They would rather scorch the earth than surrender one inch of ground. Now the roar is getting louder and there is no right way. We must gird ourselves and prepare the battle as no words of kindness will soothe the wounds that have been opened without a single blow. Now is the time of endurance, now is the time to be strong. The rift will not be healed by intolerance but there is little in the way of hope. So we must simply wait, until cooler heads prevail and we can sit quietly at a table again as brothers despite our differences. Until then we bear our shields and defend ourselves as best we can, until once again we can safely cross the great divide.

Slowly drifting down on deep still water, I hear a Loon call. I look towards a bank where Spanish Moss hangs from a tree and I see turtles laying in the sun. In front of me an Otter races through the water chasing a school of fish, as a Crane wades among the Cat Tails along the river marsh. Frogs croak in the shadows as they hide on Lilly Pads. Ducks splash in a creek feeding into the rivers deep cold waters. With no motors or electrical means of motion, I take in the beauty of the river, with just a simple paddle and the respect for the life that can be seen on a quiet journey down the river.

If all men were to write down the mercy of heaven, there would be no paper left to contain it. If all were to sing of his goodness, no one would speak again. If every one would give all their goods to help the poor, it would not even begin to equal his sacrifice. If every person prayed every minuet of each day, we could not obtain the mercy of his love. For no height, or depth nor length of time can measure to the depths of Gods love.

In human years the world seems to move by slowly, but in truth mortal lights flicker and fade out. In one moment we are here then in another we are gone, while the earth moves on without us. To hold a belief that we can make a permanent change to the environment is an illusion. We may pull up dirt and rearrange a few stones, but in the end our attempts at change will fade. Just a mighty kingdom and it's treasure will be split when it's king is gone, so is the way of humanity. The best we can hope for is to make a positive difference in our limited sphere of influence, for the world upon which we live will only abide so much change before nature corrects the imbalance, so let what ever change we make, be for good and not ill.

Crayon scrawled on a wall, rainbow colors interwoven. Simplistic, but to the trained eye, each line intersects and a picture is formed. Streaks of oil on canvas, color droplets fall like the tears of a bereaved mother. Spatters and splashes dot the landscape of the canvas, forming what to some is confusion but to others abstract. Metal welded and twisted, intersecting with mortar and stone. Hewn out of raw earth, the stone is cut to let the metal lie in a certain way, while mortar is shaped into the sculpture that to some may appear as the results of a natural disaster. Art is perception as seen through the eyes of the creator of the piece. Some elicits deep emotions, while other creations are not meant to be understood. It is what you think it is, your perception, that is your art.

Let's plant a flower, lets sew a seed. Let's join together and fill a wanting need. Let's watch something filled with beauty come to term and grow. Let's nurture it into a blossom so beautiful, let's watch it form. When it has reached its fullness of beauty, its fragrance will be so sweet. It will fill our lives that have joined with love for an eternity.

Tumble weeds roll along the dry arid land. The breeze picks up dust and carries it along an endless open range. There seem to be nothing for miles but the flat expanse. In a place where it looks like nothing could live, the wind bears witness to life and death. The dried bones of a Buffalo lie bleached out by the sun. Partly covered in dirt and grass that has become hung up in the ribs. The empty dry wind howls through them as it sings a sad song. As the sun begins to set, ghost of people long past can be seen dancing at the edge of the horizon. Are they really there, or are those just illusions cast through a crack in time. The wind carries their songs across the open expanse, where only the Prairie Dog and the lone Wolf will hear them. The wind blows on, dry and empty until rain comes and washes out the dust. Then it goes onward filled with clouds and moisture, keeping watch on the flat great plains like some invisible sentinel of time.

Unholy and vile tongue, what ill conceived words do you speak. Rebuking the gift of peace and choking out the words of love. Rejection of truth and humility, in favor of pomp and fanfare. Desirous of accolades instead of sacrifice. Wishing to be exalted instead of giving praise. Unholy a thing you are filled with poison. Oh how you do wound, giving credence to the darkest speech. Oh tongue, speak not your blasphemy's .

Madness, madness utter madness, a closet full of clothes and nothing to wear!All of last seasons are out style and no shoes match this seasons designs! Two closets later and nothing seems to fit right. Have I lost my mind or am I just to picky? What shall I wear? Will someone please tell me? I cannot decide on what colors go together and I am flustered! Only 8 hours until I must appear at a party to die for, I just need to get a new wardrobe and start all over again!

When the wind turns against me and the water begins to rage. When the night comes on quickly and the light of the heavens is canceled out. I will stand firm on my foundation, I will not fear or wavier. I shall hold fast to the rock that holds me up. I will look to the day star and hold on until morning breaks. In the lord I will trust as I weather the storm.

Lay down beside me and draw the covers close. Let me feel you breathe. Share your warmth with me, let me know your love. Show me what paradise can truly be. From the first star piercing through the curtain of night, until the rays of dawns first light. Lay beside me.

Water runs down my cheek as the rain falls down around me. I fall to my knees weeping because you are gone. My tears are mixed with the water falling from the sky. Both fall to the ground as I am dying inside. No one can tell that I am broken, no one can see my pain. I simply sit on the ground missing you as my tears fall with the rain.

Wrapped in a furry coat and a set of winter boots. She hopped across the snow to the warm lodge. Decked out in diamonds that glistened like the ice hanging from the hotel roof. She sparkles and can be just as cold. Not looking forward to a mountain trek, but enjoying fireside chats and a hot toddy. She looks to find who has the fanciest watch and flaunts her voluptuous body. Though she will not be hunted by a Fox, she will wear one if it is in style. She has the cunning of a snow Leopard and the grin of a Cheshire Cat. She never lets her hair get mussed, even under he warm furry hat. Hippy tee hop she goes back across the snow, into and exotic sports car with heated leather seats. So her fluffy little tail will be nice and warm until she needs to hippy tee hop again.

Four padded paws and a cold wet nose. An anxious bark and shedding fur. A desire to run and chase a ball. A tail that wags and an apatite for chewing on old shoes. Loyal to a fault and devoted to the end. A neglected dog is mans best friend. So when you see one in a shelter cold and alone, think twice about not taking a dog home. Some just need a little love and attention to become the best friend you will ever see. So when you hear one bark, its likely the dog is saying rescue me.

She cut her teeth on raw hide leather. She could use a rope before she could stand. Her hair is the color of sage grass and she is as wild as the Texas wind. Her favorite clothes are her boots and a faded pair of jeans. She would rather be on horse back on the open range than at hotel fit for a queen. Her hands are not soft but her grip is mighty firm, for holding the reins or her man. She knows how to build a camp fire, and she can cook and she can ride anything  Around an open camp fire is where she prefers to be . She might not win any pageants, but oh what a boring the world would be, if not for a  few wild cow girl.

At last everything is quiet. All of the people have gone. I am finally getting some rest. No more remembering how much I hurt. My pain is over and now I simply lie here. I do not know how long I will be here, but I know I am where you are not. I have only vague memories of you . I know that many people cried about the way you treated me, but their sympathy means nothing to me now. After years of abuse and cruelty, I am now at rest in the cold earth, because no one would care to listen to me, but at least you can't hurt me anymore.

Does anyone know who God is. Do they know where he lives. One person says he is here and another says he is there. If he truly is God then isn't he everywhere. Why does he have to be in a temple or a certain holy place. Can't he be among us everyday. Can't God be an act of kindness or a kind word to a friend who is hurting. Isn't he more love than vengeance? Isn't he a friend to those in need? So if God is anything, he is with in us. A part of each person to be reverenced and to love us. If this is who God is, then why don't we act more like him?

Judgmental and impatient to a fault. Doubtful and impulsive are parts of me I am working on. At best a work in progress, at worst a flawed person. Wanting to be complete, but unsure how I might get there. Often confused about what a better version of myself will look like. Sometimes scared that I will not like it when it is done. So on I go, in faith alone I must sometimes trust. Not all of my plans are good ones and more often than not they fail. So forgive me if I am impertinent, but I'm not finished yet.

Furry feet and floppy ears, so adorable it can bring you to tears. Whimpering and yipping all hours of the night. Chewing on your favorite shoes to your sheer terror and delight. No matter what the breed no one can resist. A sad eye puppy with a cold wet nose. Warming and loving no matter what your day was like. It is willing to lick your feet even when nothing else might. Such playful scamps that take up space on a rug. With all of our emotions we want one, it must be puppy love.

To be honest with ones on self is the hardest thing to do. Looking at our own faults often makes uncomfortable. To admit that we are less than we think we are is the first step to our own humility. When we judge ourselves, we are more critical than anyone else will be. The problem lies in the fact that we want to dismiss our faults and project our imperfections on another. When in fact we should be listing our deficiencies in order to remind ourselves everyday that in truth we are no better or worse than another person. It is simply that we must acknowledge the truth about ourselves.

Commit to an action, answer what passion excites you. Offer your help in any way you can! To feed a homeless person and help them recover from their plight, to save one of Gods creatures if you feel that is just and right. Let no one stand before you and tell you that you cannot achieve. In the smallest measure, the simplest kindness can become a great and powerful deed. So what ever is your interest, move forward where you see a need. For each mighty forest must begin with just a few seeds.

Behold the unwashed masses huddling together around a central street. With tweets and post they communicate. No longer waiting for a meeting in dark dank basements, they come together in a blog or on a home page. In what seems to be a spontaneous motion they move together. With picket signs and chants they raise their voices while simultaneously posting updates and videos of the scene. Their wave is invisible yet visible at the same moment. They live in a dual existence where a physical presence and an electronic foot print can be one in the same. Not bound by normal social conventions, they rage against the machine while taking the machine apart from the inside out. Disconnecting and reconnecting from mobile hubs and wireless connection points. One person can be the focus of a groups electronic protest as well as many finding one point. No longer can they be quantified by numerical measurements of a census or restrained by lines on a map. From the most distant parts of the world they join in one voice. Being seen and heard though some of them may not be in a single place. The unwashed masses are a new breed. Not silent, but appearing and disappearing as an aberration letting their voices be heard and they push for a better world and make felt their discontent and need for change.

Bravery is not a natural state. It is nature to preserve yourself. To stand up for something that is right, even though you know you can lose. To give up something of yourself for no reason other than you care. To keep going when all others have abandon you. To be willing to save another without thought of reward or self gain. These are the true faces of courage.

Riding on the tide of water deep and blue with white crest arching towards the sun. I listen to the sound of the water against the hull and wait for a faint echo. Then a whistling comes from the depths as whales break the surface to find fresh air. They chirp and whistle to each other as they rise to greet the sun. They fill their lungs and dance in the water before they dive deep again. As they fall into the depths, my heart fills with sadness as all that is left is a faint echo. For to know such beauty and grace even for a moment, can change the heart forever.

Dandelions grow close to the ground, then sprout up with a golden bloom. They are not all to complicated, here today and gone tomorrow. They are somewhat abused, but still find a way to grow. In the end they turn white and puffy and just blow away. Life and a Dandelion are alike in so many ways.

Sharpen your quill and take aim at me, write what you really feel. Reveal to me your truest emotions and show me what you really keep inside. Do not hold back on what you desire, let fly the words I have longed to hear. Show me the truth of your passions, let the poison come from your pen and let your emotions ignite inside of you. So long have you withheld from me that which you truly feel. Give me all of yourself and pierce my heart right through. Free yourself of the things of the past and let your love come through.

Carpet of Green as far as the eye can see. Trees blended creating a blanket that hides the ground from the sky. Beneath a shade I find comfort and a coolness as the sun beats down. Oh why must you go so soon, summer why can you not last. Too soon the Green fades into rainbow then brown and bland. That the trees would stay Green and that the sun would stay warm but not to warm, just enough to make life wonderful beneath a shaded patch of earth under the carpeted trees.

Ganges giver of life's water, flowing through a mystical and vast land, heart of so many lives. How you have been afflicted by the changes in time. If only people would stop and listen to the peaceful song as your waters run deeply through the land. In silence they would hear your cries and see the peoples tears. Those who reverence you are at a loss for the things that you have suffered in the name of progress. If all were taken back and let to run its own course, you would bring hope and life once again. Until then your children will weep for you and pray for you to recover until you become beautiful and full of life once again.

Put one bullet in and spin the chamber around, listen to the clicking and whirring sound. Flick your wrist and close it with a snap. Hold the cold steel in your hand. Look down the barrel and take the chance. One out of six, lets pull the trigger and dance. Eyes wide open and you hear the hammer fall. Your hand is shaking and your sweating and the firing pin goes click. Release the cylinder and do it again. Listen to the clicking and whirring sound, flick your wrist and close it with a snap. Place your finger on the trigger and lets dance.

I sit on the veranda and look out over the fields. Across the land scape of the vineyards that have been cared for with my own hands. As the sun sets I raise a glass of my own making, a fermented bouquet of wine in celebration of of life at sunset.

Let me build you a dream of all the things that you desire. Let me comfort you and wipe your tears. Let me warm your heart in the years to come and grow with you. Let me be your strength and protect you. Let me help you raise our children and teach them wisdom. Let me be part of your life and in these things I will show you my love.

Covered with thorns but radiant in Crimson Red, a flower that grows rare and with a scent that can confound the senses. A rose that comes from the rarest of lines, from Sharon it was taken and planted in a garden, then it found a tree upon which to hang. Planted in the earth then bursting forth in 3 days, though it blossoms Crimson, it can make anyone white as snow.

When day break comes and the nights shadows begin to fade, I awaken by your your side. I gently stir and look to see your there, I watch the suns first rays shine off of your hair. I lay silently and listen to you breathe. I want to touch you and know your real and that this is not a dream. I watch you until you slowly rise from a peaceful nights sleep. I look on as you begin to move and I wonder if this is still a dream. The form of your body glows in the morning light. I simply sit and watch my love and know that all things are right.

I saw a fair maiden come to bring me another round, she was delicate as a fair flower. The hours past and her beauty overtook me, until I gave her a kiss. Then through the haze of many rounds, I followed her to her chamber and laid my sorrows down. Upon waking in the morning, to my surprise the maiden fair had left me and been replaced by her mother who obviously with a smile had rather enjoyed my company. So let this be a lesson to all who dare to dabble in the spirits you see. What you though was one thing may yet become another indeed.

In a sea of sound, I look to be heard. Over the crowds of people I seek to be known. With each struggle, I do what I can to further my cause. I help everyone I can and speak for what I believe. Though my actions may seem inconsequential, and I may seem to be alone. I have a voice with which I speak. I push forward each day knowing that my struggle will not be an easy one, but if I am faithful to myself and I keep true to my cause, my deeds of kindness will resonate and with a chorus of lives that I have touched, the voice that I have will be heard.

Reach out to others and give them a helping hand. Stand tall in the face of adversity. Hold fast to your convictions no matter what the day may bring. Help make a better world than the one you found. Leave a mark of positive change and offer help where you can. Let your presence always give hope and caring. Show others that there is a better way. Let wisdom be your guide. Learn from your mistakes and pass on that knowledge to any who willingly receive it. At the end of the journey look back and see the shadow you have cast over many lives.

I saw love today when the sun first rose. I watched my dog lick my two year old's nose. I saw love today as an old couple  walked down the street. I saw the way they held each other so frail and gentle as they went. I saw love today in the hands of  strangers, as they ran to a car accident to pull someone out of danger. I saw love today in a kind and gentle act, as I stopped to help someone with their grocery sack. In some many places I saw love, yet I wonder why so many people do not. I wonder why they ignore the simplest of things, extraordinary love in so many common places. If only others could see what is evident to me, how much richer our lives could be, if only you could see love today.

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

A lie is whispered enough until it  becomes the truth. Division starts and rips relationships apart. The devil does his dance and prances around calling the tune. We see strife and hatred as we fight for the same piece of ground. Our ideologies get in the way of love and turn us all to hate. We want to help but our own prejudices get in the way. So around and around we go, running a circle until we are all dizzy and the devil laughs as he collects his due. We are all confused and that is just where he wants us.

Walking barefoot in the park in a dress of cotton and lace. Strolling into the wind so that her perfume is carried towards you. Lips like glistening fruit after the morning dew has come. Skin soft like satin, wanting you to touch it. Hair like a ravens wing, a walk as subtle as a fawn. Carefully she glances towards you enticing you like a forbidden garden of rare earthly delights. Your heart skips a beat and you begin to sweat. Her spell has worked on you. You are enchanted with her and a wicked woman has gotten her way.

Tell me what you are in need of and I will pen down the words. Ask for something and I will find the feeling to give it life. If you are sad, I can make the parchment cry. If you are happy, I can make the word declare joy to you. If you are frustrated, I will craft a work to reflect your mood. What ever it is you desire, just tell me now and I will write the poem for you.

Spread upon a table lays a white and silver table cloth, upon it are golden candle sticks lighting the buffet. Cakes and Pies laid out in rows, surrounded by cupcakes and sugar cookies. Grand maw's famous fruit cake is a centerpiece unto itself. All wonderful treats abound, enough to put a diabetic into shock just by looking at the table. So tonight we dine and indulge, on a feast fit for a Ginger Bread king. For tomorrow, we will feel the sugar hang over and curse our pallet for now we cannot fit into our skinny jeans. So in repentance we will purge, all the week long, high fiber low calorie meals designed to cleanse our colon and our soul, but this is only a brief respite from our culinary debauchery, for news years shall come and once again we shall binge out on too many sweets, only to be forced to the church of fitness by making atonement at the alter of pain so that we might fit into those favorite jeans before spring. We shall live in food piety, until another holiday full of treats tempts us again.

Stranded in a barren desert, I wandered across the burning sand. I was lost and in desperation when I came upon a man. I asked if he could help me, he said no but I will show you where to go. He pointed towards the setting sun, so I tiredly walked on. After much labor, I began to lose my mind. I saw what I wasn't sure sitting what seemed miles away. I then stumbled into the massive object, with the fading light of day. I stepped back several paces to see what this thing was. It had the face of a man and body of a lion and looked so regal, that I stood in awe. Then I saw something move, it was part of the giants paw. I fell to the sand in fear, think I was done. Then I heard a voice say welcome to my home. Startled I stood up and the massive being said what do you think. It rose up on all four paws and gave it's head a shake. I replied that I am not sure, what am I supposed to think. I am very thirsty I said, can I have something to drink. As if by magic, a lovely maiden appeared. She brought me water and a cold beer then quickly disappeared. I gulped down the water and delightfully savored the beer. I smiled at the giant beast and wished him good cheer. I then went black and some hours later, I found myself inside a pyramid. In a magnificent room, covered in marble and gold. I woke up and tried to stand only to find I was naked and cold. I wrapped a sheet around myself and I am happy to report, that I wasn't in ancient Egypt but had found Luxor's casino and resort. I put on a hotel robe and called some one the phone. It was long until a nice you man came up with my laundered clothes. I ask him with a puzzled look, what had happened to me. He answered with a great big smile and a great amount of glee. He said that our staff found you out back of the resort. You were lying on the ground between our icons feet. A waitress said you had ordered a few drinks then passed right on out. I asked about the giant statue and why it talked to me. The young man we get that a lot when our visitors have had too much to drink. So I lie here pondering a hanger over and massive bar bill I think, as I try to solve the riddle of the Luxor Sphinx.

Sent into the furnace of despair, poured out into the flame of proving. Placed under a burden that seems impossible to bear. Wrought by the hammer of tribulation, and tested by faith alone. Made pure as silver or fine gold, a vessel worthy of the masters hand. Polished until you are radiant and ready to be filled with the holy spirit. Only those tried by fire will be worthy of service to the lord.

The teams were matched up and the game had been hard fought. Both sides were tired and sweat poured off of everyone. Every piece of ground and every point had been earned with sacrifice and pain. There was 18 seconds left in double overtime and the next play would decide the game. From 40 yards out a tired you man took sight of the ball. This was it, this was the kick that would tell them all. If the tie would be broken or would the game end in a draw, no one new what to expect no one could make the call. As the stadium filled with a hushed silence, the lineman hiked the ball. The place kicker set up the kick and the kicker let it fly, but just as ball was let loose spiraling into the air, it came crashing to the ground and was running away from the field. For what had went unnoticed from the sidelines and what everyone had forgot, was a Golden Retriever named Alex, that was the home teams mascot. Doing what he had been taught to do a thousand times before, it was his favorite half time trick, with it the Hunter dogs would always score. So free from his leash, he rushed the field and true to his call, Alex stopped the game as he retrieved the ball. No one will remember the hard work that went into that game, but you can be sure that they will remember Alex's name. For in that one viral moment you can almost bet, that funny dog will forever be seen on the internet.

Bearing a burden for another. Lifting life's load for a brother or sister. Carrying a cross in the service of righteousness, falling only to your knees. Kneeling in prayer under the weight of burdens, drawing strength from heavenly places. Enduring through the battle that the lord may receive glory. Such is the way of bearing a cross and sharing the burden of another.

Last  night I had a dream of a man working wood. He was a simple soul, but his hands were steady in his work. Each piece of wood he cut and shaped with delicate care. As I approached him I saw that he had no shoes. I asked sir where are your shoes and he looked at me and smiled. He said that the last pair are over there. In the corner of his shop, I saw his sandals all worn and broken. He continued with his work and I ask why are you shoes so worn. He looked at me and smiled as he told me a of his journeys and of the burdens he bore. He said that he wore out many pairs of shoes, each one in a labor of love. He said I have carried many burdens and with each burden, my shoes have worn away. Now all burdens are lifted and that is the last pair. I was happy and sad as I walked away, then I awoke and stared into the night. As I though about the shoes and the carpenters words, I realized that his words rang true, as in my dream Jesus had lifted my burden from me.

A homeless mother just wants to see her child again. She tries to get  back up on her feet. Though she cleans herself up, no one sees what she has done. They just see a ***** woman that once lay in the street. An alcoholic father finally says enough, and gets into rehab. He cries everyday over the family he almost destroyed and the lives he has brought harm to. All he wants is a second chance, but others judge him for what he has done. He caused many great pain, and simply wants redemption, but in the eyes of many there is none. The world is full of broken people who just want to try one more time. Their past haunt them and they are often reminded of their failings, but in some way aren't we all broken people as well?