No matter where we are from or who we believe is God, all us of are the same under the skin. When one of us uses violence on his fellow man, the other bleeds red the same as you or I. If we stop for a moment and discuss why we must fight, then perhaps we can understand the others point of view. For now let's set aside our guns and swords and listen to another and hear what that person has to say, before anymore red blood is shed.

Pumpkins are carved with frightful shapes. Old curtains are hung up like ghostly phantoms. Candles burn in window sills. The pail light of the moon shines down on bails of hay, in barren fields. The wind takes on a certain chill. A cat screeches in the darkness, children put on mask and prepare for trick or treat. Cauldrons boil and monster howl, parties are filled with frightful sounds. All things that you will see, if you dare to venture out on all hallows eve.

Rainbows shimmer and rain drops glisten. Ice crystals shine and certain stones radiate light. Glass windows reflect the colorful lights and hard candy can change hues of color depending on how you hold it up to the sun. Such superficial beauty, could it really hurt anyone? I cherish the things that shine and glow. Life can be so ugly if it were not for all of the sparkly things.

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.

When all eyes can see beyond our own prejudices. When all hearts openly embrace another's ideals. When tolerance is not a watch word, but a way of life. When agreeing to disagree is not in our vocabulary, then the human equation will finally add up to all people being equal.

The host of the night sky shines down on creation. Some of them find a jealous reason to envy what they see. While others weep at the way life is squandered, between the two they disagree. Why should this go on, shouldn't we take their place. The question sparks an eternal battle that threatens to tear heaven out of it's place. So on goes the question, do things need to be allowed to go on, or should others become keepers of the earth, and start the world anew?

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

Alone in the garden, he sorely wept. Alone in the garden ,a watch he kept. Alone in the garden, he waited for it to end. Alone in the garden, he was betrayed by a friend. Alone in the garden, he shed his last tears. Alone in the garden, he let go of his fears. Alone in the garden, he became the one, when he prayed father thy will not mine be done.

Walking silently among the flowers and trees, I reflect quietly on nature. I stop and look at a bird bath where little birds splash about and play. I watch as bees go from flower to flower busily at work. I hear their humming as they go about their task. I watch a squirrel scamper down a tree and run across the path in front of me. He finds a choice nut and runs back up to his perch again. I close my eyes and feel the gentle breeze, I let it blow over me. I take in the sounds and scents of nature, as I am alone in the garden that is all around me.

The night is still but I am restless. My heart is an open wound. I am devoid of passion and empty of desire. I have been undone by you leaving me. I toss and turn praying for morning to come. I wish again for your touch and to hear you breathe in the night. My bed is no longer a place of rest, but of endless longing, a longing for love.

I was called a Rose and the fairest among ten thousand. I was ask how much I loved you and I open my arms wide. I ached so much to know you that I gave you all I had. With each stripe and drop of blood I tried to express my love for you. Then when the mortal coil quietly slipped away and set my spirit free. I gave my life to show you how much you mean to me.

Snipping at each other,  arguing over little things. One moment there is passion, then the tears begin. Fighting over nothing, lost to being in love. Not talking then rolling in the sheets, these are just parts of a lovers quarrel that new lovers must endure.

Oh Lord I look at the land but I yet long for the sea. Please let thy hand guide my journey and let thy favor be upon me. Give me clear eyesight and strong and steady hands. Be patient with me as I labor and seek to know your master plan. Let the wind take me upon my journey and return me safe again, that I may gently hold loved ones and embrace dear friends. If it should be thy judgement that my Earthly home I will see no more, let not thy servants body wash up on the shore. Take me gently into the arms and embrace me in the Deep. Let me there abide until you call me from my sleep. Know that I have done my best whatever be my fate. Unto thee I give all glory and on thee then I will patiently wait, amen

The unwashed masses huddle in the street. They stomp their feet and rage against the perceived injustices that they feel they must right. When one group is in power then the other side is livid with outcry. When they who protest too much have power, the others are too busy working to take notice. Until a moment of enlightenment when one side grew weary of being derided and pushed aside, then in an outrageous act, they spoke up and demanded their version of change. Now the nation is in mass hysteria, America is in a tail spin and where we will land is anyone's guess?

I took my oath without reservation and I swore to defend my nations. Following in the footsteps of family before me. I ask no special treatment, you may never now my name. While you were sleeping one night, I was keeping watch faraway. When danger knocked at the door, I was there to answer the call. To remind the enemies of your freedom that I will defend you even if I fall. Though you and I might not agree or see things the same way. I and my forebears offered our lives to ensure that you may peacefully live as you see fit. So take heart  and be of good cheer, for when the threat of danger is near. We will be there to guard the gate and keep our country free.

The smell of fresh cut grass and the boys of summer have been a staple of America for generations. Popcorn, hot dogs and the seventh inning stretch defined a part of who we are. No longer does this enamor us, as editorial games of political intrigue have come to center stage. The 3/2 pitch has been replaced with the political sound bite. The crack of an Ash wood bat has been over taken by the sound of a judges gavel. We have gone from watching The Lazy Days of summer pass quietly, too political Carnage that we watch Daily. With the 24/7 news cycle, once Monumental Heroes only receive a few seconds in the day. Unless they're caught in a drunken stupor or have made an unwanted *** tape. innocence has been taken away, and the old Skipper with his hat pulled down has been replaced by teams of lawyer, that argue the will of the people to the ground. So will we ever return to a simpler time, or will we continue to drown in the political mire. When did America's innocent pass time, give way to this political nightmare?

We have been bombed, we have been invaded. We have suffered great tragedies, but we have persevered. We fight among ourselves but do not mistake dissension for weakness. We bicker and quarrel, but when we are threatened we will unite. The rest of the world may go to hell but America will survive

One day in a moment of silent reflection, I ask myself if I am alone? The earth became still quiet and then a soft breeze blew by me, on it were the sounds of children laughing not too far away. I then heard the sound of a cricket chirping and a small bird singing. I looked up to the sky and it seemed so empty, then I saw an Eagle soaring into the sun. In an instance I felt peace wash over me. Then a quiet voice in my heart reminded me that there is no isolation and that despite where I seek solitude, that I am never truly alone.

From the first moment we set out on our own, we begin a journey of learning. While we may think that we are the student, the exact opposite is actually true. Though we may have much to discover, and many lessons to learn. There is always someone behind us in need of guidance and direction. When we master something, even the ability to care, we become teachers to others when we share what we have learned. If you show someone how to help and smile, a lesson has been taught. Being kind in the face of adversity can be a lesson passed on without even our being aware. There are so many things that each of us knows, and our actions make us teachers for good or ill. So it is up to us to give the object lessons that we ourselves would want others to teach us. By doing so, we are teachers.

Stepping off of a mountain top and letting the glider sail. Feeling the nothingness of the wind as it lifts you up. Into the blue sky and beyond the clouds, through the haze and veil of the atmosphere you go. Taking a moment to contemplate all that you are and coming to realize that you are only a small part of something much greater. As you sail onwards looking at the earth down below, you come to realize that time has come to a stand still. As the clouds pass by, all things slow down, and for just a moment, you see what true peace can be.

I cannot stop to regret what was lost and I cannot know what is yet to be. I can only live in the present and work with what has been given me. Time does not always behave as we would like it to. The bad times seem to last forever and the good ones are quickly gone away. So I will simply exist in the hear and now, and hope that it works out well. Your best days are not always behind you and you do not always win the race. What you must know is that you tried your best and that the prize you may attain may not be the one you thought you should get. So enjoy the light of day, for night comes quickly to us all. A moment is the sun is all any of us ever get and perhaps in heavens wisdom, that is just enough.

The lights flash and the music plays as the Carousel turns and moves. In  mirrors we see our reflections as the horses dance and we laugh. If only our reflections could capture this moment and let it last. A small bit of childhood that we could relive once in a while. Something to remind us of what its like to be free from responsibility and the complications of emotions other than laughter and joy as we play grown up gains wanting to capture a moment of child like wonder again.

My clock will not stop bleeping and I can't get out of my bed. My hair is a knotted mess and there is a throbbing in my head. I stumble and stub my toes on a toy or two as I make my way to the kitchen for my first cup of brew. The coffee *** is on but its not what I think, instead of steaming hot coffee, I get an orange energy drink. It seems that one of the children decided to help me out. Now my  mouth tastes awful, I need to rinse it out. I have a two year old tugging at my leg. All I keep hearing is eggs, eggs ,eggs. My wife is still lost in la la land. I am not sure how much more of this I can stand. I try to turn on the morning news only to get kids t.v. . Now I am watching pointless cartoons, for the remote has a parental lock you see. So I run to fix breakfast and get burned seven times. Then it's off to get a shower, and hope I can come alive. I turn on the water and here is where I think I will stay. It seems to be the only place I can find a moments peace from my morning in disarray.

Doctors have mapped the cancer genome, and fuel is made from air. *** has been cured and there is plenty of food everywhere. Nations have learned from past mistakes and we now live on the moon. All of this sounds like fantasy you say, but some of it will be here soon. If we as a people can learn to agree to disagree and accept that there is a brave new world waiting, what an amazing tomorrow it will be.

Buildings burn and cities crumble, starvation is rampant and the oppressors of freedom have won. All of good conscience have withdrawn leaving them to rule the heap. At last they have total freedom to do what ever they want. There is no law and order or is there? The chaos gives rise to in fighting and a struggle for what is left. The strong prey on the weak. At last a barbaric order is established and the cycle begins. From the ashes of anarchy and chaos, someone takes charge. What they will call themselves, who can really say. So anarchy is in truth an illusion and the corrupted former things give way to a repeat of what has already been.

He that spoke creation into being,the creator of the first light. Teacher of wisdom and giver of knowledge, the unseen guiding hand. Let creation reverence you and give you adoration. Let your love and mercy fill our hearts with compassion. He that was first and is last hear our praises of your holy name. We lift you up and remember you, let us come humbly before you in all things. Let your children seek out your will, hear us oh ancient of days.

All distinction is gone, and we are doomed. No representation exist, it will be over soon. Clones of each party reflects the other. Nothing is  new under the sun. Once a clear distinction existed between two factions, now they both grumble and tell lies. All are awash in money while the unwashed masses starve. No help can be found in the seat of power, the chair is one size to fit the posterior of whoever happens to sit in it at the time. Rhetoric abounds but says little as dysfunctional bureaucrats shuffle endless reams of paper from one box to the next in a pretense of accomplishment that would fool even the wisest of the Greeks. At last the utopia is in sight. All persons have one point of view whether they like it or not. Society is reduced to numbers of the haves and the have not's with the former being less than the latter but of a greater status. Reaping all of the harvest and leaving little for the unwashed masses, as they close ranks in androgynous politics that mirror the same thing.

Wrinkled with ten fingers and ten toes you came into the world with not even a cry. With new eyes that sparkle when you laugh, you are a  clean slate upon which a story will be written. A new mystery to be unraveled and a new chance at life. You have yet to experience the wonders and tragedies that await us all. For now, I will simply cherish a few stolen moments as I hold a new born treasure in my arms.

Dark clouds are parted as rays of hope flood in. Neighbors help each other once again. Crops are planted and play grounds are built. Prisons disappear and libraries are being built. Violence is replaced by negotiation and friendly competition has is an everyday occurrence, where no one dies. When new ideas take hold and the old generational ignorance fades away, then a new dawn for humanity will arise and what a wonderful place this world will be.

The morning dew lays on the trees and ground in the cool air of a new day. My lungs are filled with the crisp cold as the sun begins to climb over the horizon. I listen to the world awake and begin to imagine the possibilities. What wonderful things can I bring to life today. Might I learn something new, could I make a new friend or make a difference in the life of another person. The possibilities that are before me are endless, but for a moment, I must simply stop and enjoy the purity of the unwritten pages of a new day.

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.

I once thought I knew what love ought to be. It was between two people, just you and me. Then I was shown something miraculous, someone who paid a cost. Someone who didn't have to give all to come and save that which was lost. When my eyes were truly open and I saw what God Son did, I knew that there was a new type of love, that I had never seen before. He left all that he held dear to do the father's will. Though he still Bears the scars, he loves me still. For with love he gave his life that I might be redeemed. He showed me a new type of love, one that I had never seen.

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

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.

To heaven I plead asking for comfort. In misery I call out with lamentation. I see those who persecute me and take away my joy, I call to the watchers of the lord. In the hour of temptation, let heaven hear my pleas. In the night watch when fear comes to over take me, let the sentry be set about me that my peace shall not leave me. Oh lord set your angels to watch over me.

Spread over the throne of God covering the mercy seat, Angels pronounce the glory of God. In storms of life, the wings of angels are spread over the innocent and the lost to protect them from the fiery darts of the enemy. When the pilgrim soul is tired, angels spread their wings and lift up the burdens of life. In occasions where there is worry and strife, angels stand with wings spread, ready to heed the prayers of the faithful and to heed the masters call.

I see you before me, come to take me into your bed. I succumb to the strength of your body and surrender myself to your pleasure. I give myself to your desires and lay before you a vessel to be filled. Your strong hands are lain upon me and cause me to become on fire. I melt into your embrace and open myself to your touch. I kneel before you to remind you of my place and to give you pleasure. I offer you passion and pleasure and in return I receive in like kind. Once I have aroused you to my form, you lift me up and lay me down. I am subject to your will. You are in need of a place to receive release as I am in need of the feeling of being wanted. We join together in a dance of commonality. I giving myself to be your vessel and you putting into me the seed of promise. As we cross the threshold of unity, I settle into your embrace, content in the knowledge that you have known me as a haven for your release and that I am a part of you as I have become the fertile ground from which your essence can bring forth new life.

Lilies will be magnificent and Tulips will be grand. Posies by the dozens, those I can understand. So why so many Roses, they are too complicated. With sticky thorns and so many colors. I get confused just thinking about them. So bring me a Coronation or a bouquet of Violets if you must. Anything but Roses, I have seen them quiet enough.

Sorrows and love all through adversity. My life is written in a book for eternity. On each page a day is recorded. Kindness and mercy shown on my journey. Each trial I go through strengthens me. Making me better than I used to be. I reach higher even when I fall. I want to do better and leave goodness behind. Perhaps a better world for others to find. Each day that passes I add another page to the book of my life.

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

Car radios, used tires and old fishing rods. Rusty tool sets, used wedding rings and a wall full of guns. Selection is limited on some specialty things, dented ATV's go quickly so buy it real fast! Trading in my old deer head, for a used color T.V. . What a surprise that's going to be. Lay away plan or pay as you go. How long it will take who can really know? Get it out before Christmas day and if you don't like, you can pawn it away. Cash and carry is the pawn brokers creed. So go to a pawn shop for Christmas, you may just find what you need.

In the clefts of a mighty mountain, a single pebble lay. Held in place by only a few flecks of earth, quietly it sat until one warm day the sun  melted the snow on top of a frozen peak. Slowly water dripped down and bit by bit it wore the earth away. Until finally after many seasons of melting snow, the pebble fell loose one day. Falling down the crack in the side of the mountain, the pebble struck a fragile ledge. The weight of the single stone was too much and the ledge gave way. Down it plummeted with it's brother the pebble, down into a ravine along the side of the mighty mountain, crashing with the sound of thunder went the pile of rocks shattering the peace of the whole mountain. Great was the shaking that rattled the mountain to it's core. Then back up the crack from which the pebble had fallen, the ripple caused a rift splitting the mountain asunder. Then what was once a single mountain was split in twain. Leaving twin peaks and a vast gap where a single pebble once had been.

Drip, Drip, Drip goes the ink from my quill. Splotching the paper as I sit frustrated with myself. Scribble and scratch as the writers block stifles me. I push to find the words but they will not come. I squeeze the pen in frustration only to stain my face with the blood of my trade. I then come to understand how easily the ink can flow and that for their work a poet must sometimes bleed.

Let me show you a vision, let me tell you of many things. Look inside my mind and see where dreams come from. Peer into the snowy garden, look at the summer rain. See the world as I see it, watch it ever change. Hear the bird songs that inspire me. Come to grips with agony and pain. See the world as it really  is and not as you would like it to be. Walk on the beaten path, and travel the forgotten road with me. Sit under the shade tree, and watch the changing of the leaves. Take a moonlight stroll on a beach and know a lovers embrace. Hold the hand of a hurting child and wipe the tears from the gentle face. Dance with Unicorns in a Willow grove, with fairies all around. See the sun set in the East and watch the moon come down. See from behind my eyes all the wonder you can imagine. Broken hearts and forgotten dreams waiting to come from the end of my pen. Wake me when there is no color in the world, and I will fill in the blank slate. I will dare to be a voice of imagination, I will fill the empty space. My visions are my own but I wish to let the world see them, as I do. I live in a poets dream everyday, how does the world appear to you?

The cold salt air blows over the bow of the ship as majestic blue whales rise out of the water. Heaving through the waves and thundering down, they answer to no one in their strength. On the side of a mountain, a great eagle rises on a ledge, the sunlight glistening off of the birds majestic wings. Hanging from a rope quietly in hopes of seeing the glorious flight of the master of the winds. The bird raises itself up and dives off into the unseen current, with a scream that heralds it's coming, the bird sails off into the horizon. A Humming bird darts in and out of flowers in a colorful array as it's wings **** through the air keeping it afloat in what appears magically effortless flight. Moments of majesty and grandeur fill the eye and speak of life and paint a portrait of nature that is only a glimpse of the true natural beauty of our world.

There once was a dark haired maiden who was very pleasant when she was quiet. She had a delicate smile and fair skin, but when she spoke it became quite a riot. Though her looks were that of an angel, she had the screeching voice of a Crow. So what was lovely to be seen was a horror to be heard. So she always walked quietly and smiled politely and was seldom ever heard.

Pulling on my jeans too tight, stepping up in heels so high. Swinging to the left and bumping to the right. Keeping up with the rhythm every single time. I'm too fly to be left out of anyone's scene. I'm working it fine in my Apple Bottom Jeans.

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.

Locked in a cold Grey room. Walls of cement and steel. I look through the bars as I hear time creep past. I hate my life and wish to end the loneliness. I made mistakes and now I am paying the price. I sit here while others are out having life. I have broken and shattered the peach of others. Now I sit here in my own version of a personal hell. I sparsely have any freedom, trapped in my prison cell.

The chains that I have forged are ones that you cannot see. I created them through selfishness and neglect. In pursuit of gain instead of love and mercy, now I sit trapped inside of a prison of my own making . My sentence has no commutation and I dare say no parole. I carry the memories of my mistakes etched into the table of my soul. I long to open the prison door and let myself go free, but alas when I drove you away, you took the key and your love from me.