Shattered pieces of ceramic falling off of a roof top, adorning the ground in a colored mosaic, they refract the light of the morning sun. Piece by piece I move them around and place them where they seem to fit. Bringing a tapestry into focus, they become part of the landscape and form an image of what they wanted to be. Tired of sitting on a hobble of a house, they broke away and found a new purpose sitting on the ground waiting to emerge as weather worn pieces of faded color in different shades waiting for someone to put them together into the image of beauty that was screaming to be seen.

Stiletto heels and a short tight skirt. Full colored lips just to go to work. Highlights in my hair, and just the right top, cut just low enough to make the right man stop. Lady like poise and the subtle hint of perfume, with a swish in my walk when I enter the room. A presentation that is a feast for the eyes. The object of desire, a note worthy prize. From high school to college its a work in progress, learning how to be seen, it becomes an art. Knowing just what magazines to read, seeing the latest styles is a necessity. Not being to easy but giving up just enough, to make your way to your next goal. That is what we are taught. Though you might wear sweats to bed at night, even going to work out has to be done just right. Showing off the curves in all of the right places, it is the art of selling myself.

When you find something that gives you contentment, no matter what it may be, then serenity is the gift you have been given, cherish it and don't let it slip away.

Cold and wet I changed a tire in the rain. No thanks were needed as I sent the driver on her way. A young girl was crying at a street fair because her balloon had gotten away. I brought her another and said you will be ok. I gave a bottle of cold water to the person holding the road sign. They looked kind of puzzled but I didn't really mind. I just went on my way with a little more joy inside . Service with a joyful smile, it doesn't cost a lot to be kind.

My heart is still a prisoner though I am a thousand miles away from you. I can still remember your smell when you would walk into a room. Your laughter still haunts my dreams each time I try to sleep. The sound of your breathing echoing beside me makes me become wide awake. Though we have been separated for quiet a while. I still see your face every time someone smiles. Your a ghost from my past, you keep me imprisoned with your memory, so please let my poor heart be. Walk away from my life and please set me free.

Meticulously pulling at each thread, letting the scissors slide through the fabric. Pulling the seams together and snipping the loose ends. Drawing the needle and the thread through each piece and cutting again here and there. Placing the essence of ones soul into a creation, making a piece worthy of royalty. Preparing the best for someone to adore and cherish, such is the way of an artisan who gives what is in themselves to create a work of art from cloth and twine.

The world seems to be black and white. Things appear to be wrong and right. If all we had was reason, then there would be no need for a changing of the seasons. To mince words and stir some confusion, to paint an expressionist portrait and challenge reality with an illusion. This is the cause of poets and Painters, the task of writers and philosophers. If no one ever ask what if, then there would be no imagination. Life would be straightforward, and there would be no skewed lines. Yet because we have people who like to question, life will be shaded and there will be offset colors. Not everything will be clearly defined and we will have need of philosophers, poets, writers and Painters to fill in the blank spaces around the edges and to give us something to look at other than a clean blank slate.

Oh sullen veil that falls in many stages. Oh brooding curtain that covers all things. It is sorrow that we will not fully embrace you. Giver of rest and friend that we pierce with cruel light. For primal fear we do not embrace the night. We children of day fear what we can't see. Subtle things hidden in the shadows, cool desires we fear to brace. So transition from evenings veil into the heart of your darkest self. Then withdraw at dawn's breaking until we again meet dear friend at the days last rays fading behind darkening horizons to let us embrace the shades of night once again.

Oh shadows fall over me and cast away the burning light of day. Oh lesser light shine down faintly upon me and let my shade rest. Oh starry canvas present yourself and let me peer into your eternity. Oh mystery of darkness find me and embrace me. Oh shades of night gently bring me rest.

Shades wander aimlessly here and there looking for a place to exist. The ghostly forms of lives once lived without meaning. The only thing that concerned them was themselves. Now as wisp of what was they wander between the lines of reality, not having a form or purpose, simply wanting to exist again, so that they might undo the selfish things that lead them to their current state of existence .

I keep the curtains drawn and pull the covers back over my head. The sun peers through the window but I prefer dark skies. I have tried to medicate my pain away, but the numbness only makes things worse. At least with the grief, I know that I am alive. I walk around as if I am not with in my own skin. I see , I hear and know, but it is as if I am a spectator in my own life. I shuffle through my existence hoping that perhaps I will just quietly fade away like shadows of the day. I pass a mirror and I see the outer image of what the world sees, but behind the image I project, my eyes strain to hold the tears that are always present inside of me.

Give me a bit of your life and I will give you a bit of mine. I will show you what I see and you can show me what you see. Let  me understand you and you can understand me. I will share with you and you can share with me. Then we can go each a different way and share with another what I learned from you and you learned from me. As we pass on what we know of each other to another, then we will all come to understand and hopefully come to live in peace when we each understand each other.

Soulful music slowly drifts out of the speakers. The lights are dim as she drifts across the floor. Her blood red lipstick adds to the illusion. She wraps her shawl around her shoulders and pretends that is a man holding her that is not around. Her body hungers for companionship, but she wants to be faithful. The music catches hold of her as she spins around slowly and looks at the mirror. She lets her honey blonde hair flow over her shoulder. The deep rhythmic voice of the singer says what she is feeling, she has been alone too long. Her passion has been lit like the fuse of a cannon and she is ready to explode. She pulls on her best dress and slips into her heels. She knows that this is wrong but what is a girl to do. She says her passion is to strong to contain any longer as she heads out the door, she has been to long dancing alone to the blues.

The serpent turns around her body from the top of her foot to the small of her back. then over her shoulder as it's head rest on her breast. A Cobra goes down one arm and another wraps around her other to her wrist, she throws her dark hair back as she twirls and stares at you with Yellow Green eyes. Her lips are blood Red and her skin is slightly tan. She bends forwards and backwards letting the music guide her body. As she gyrates, the serpents that adorn her slither back and forth, their red eyes drawing you in. You know that snakes are dangerous, but you almost want them to bite you as she jumps and lands kneeling in front of you. One strike and your filled with the poison of her lust. She is ******, seductive and dangerous. You get lost in her eyes, hypnotized as the wraps her arms around you and constricts. You feel the breath going out of you and desire overtakes you. The night is a blur and you awake and she is gone. You were struck in the heart and now you ache all over. She slither away looking for more prey. You try to move but you can still feel the pain of being stricken. She dances with snakes and entices you to come play her dangerous game if you dare.!

I pull and tear at the shroud that wraps me. Claw and gouge at it until it breaks open. Like a cocoon that keeps a Butterfly, I tear at the shell that binds me. I am too constricted and my wings cannot find the sun. I want to feel the warmth of a new thing and become something other than I am supposed to be. So I struggle to shed my skin that has kept me closed up for too long. I want to know other people and to be as they are. I want to express myself and let my ideas flow, but none of this can happen unless I am willing to fight and grow beyond my own skin.

Strutting like a feline arrayed in her golden furs. Her shapely legs lead to her delicate thighs. Her stockings are seamless as she walks in high heels. Her Emerald Green eyes flicker with fire. Her claws are sharp and she is cunning. She can move light on her feet and dance the night away. If you rub her right then she will purr for you. She is very subtle in all of her ways. She likes to lounge around in the daytime and at night she loves to come out and play. She wears sparkling jewels like a high priced collar and drinks the finest Champaign. She loves to snuggle up close to you and can take your breathe away. Just listen to her as she sings for you, her voice will lull you into her hands. She will dazzle you with her feline wiles and entice you to come and play with her. She is a mischievous darling, the one that you won't want to let get away. So stroke her gently and listen to her growl. You will find few women like this one, she is the cat's meow.

How could he do this, wasn't I enough she screams at the mirror as she is cutting up his stuff. The scissors are just the beginning as she snips and cuts. Soon he will know that he can't pay enough. She logs on to his computer and goes to his Facebook page. She makes public all of his post and photos to anyone who wants to see, with the exception of the ones that feature her you see. She opens up his email and cancels all of his credit cards. She says I am feeling better, but that's just a good start. She up loads some photos from when he said he was sick, she sends them to his boss and mother they are of his vacation in Cancun highlighted with a caption feeling better soon. Feeling like she's done all she can do at home, she packs up off her clothes and his emergency money and then she is gone. She moves in with one of her girlfriends and then she takes her out,they buy brand new outfits and get all decked out. Manicures and pedicures a new pair of shoes will be just fine. They're both going out partying on his dime. At a club where things are pumping and then music blares real loud she finds a new muscular boyfriend and the two of them wow the crowd. With photos and a YouTube video all of this may seem insane but Then she sends him a link to her social postings, he'll see she knows how to play the Revenge game.

She walked by me on the beach and my eyes were transfixed on her. She wore dark sunglasses and that is all she had on. I was awe struck at the simplicity of her beauty and at the lack of care she gave to my stare. She just turned and looked into me and motioned to me with her finger. I was hypnotized by a tan goddess with perfect tight skin. I just submitted to her enticement and got lost in her sin. The rest is a lustful blur but she wore dark sunglasses and that I remember well.

Walk through the darkness and shine forth a light
Pierce the misery and hate. Bring forth mercy and peace. Give of yourself to another. Show others a path of truth. Set an example of mercy and grace. Upon intolerance and ignorance shine a light of compassion and justice.

I walk on the edge of insanity. I grab at straws of hope. I have tried everything to solve my problems, but I cannot make them go away. Now I sit on the edge of the abyss and look into the eternal night. I look at the scars on my body, so  many times I have tried to feel alive. Now I am numb from the inside out, my mind can no longer focus. On the edge of life itself, perhaps I can finally find answers or at least know peace. The voices scream at me and I try to shut them out. I slip into a coma and at this point there is no doubt. I have tiptoed over the line and now it is just a wait and see. Will I wake up or will I end it all, the answer is no longer up to me.

Our cities are filled with greed, crime and poverty. The elite sit in their strongholds and count their ill gotten gains. Our leaders are indifferent to our suffering and expect us to conform to their whims. We struggle for our daily bread, while others sit in wheat fields of plenty. We rage and scream at shadows as we fight against the agents of what we perceive as our oppression. Perhaps it is time to abandon the spires of our imprisonment and return to our past. Perhaps if we leave the so called civilized world and get back to what we once knew, then we can regain our freedom. Should we like locust move from what we have consumed and go onto something new? Perhaps we should just level the playing field, perhaps we should just tear it all down?

Presenting a life of service and humility. Seeking wisdom and knowledge to help others. Giving selflessly to help another person. Asking not for praise or repayment for giving of yourself. Being strong and pursuing justice, while showing the presence of faith in things that are unseen. Speaking words of hope to those who have lost it. Living a life that is a measure of God's mercy that all me see his love.

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

With my voice I scream at what I call injustice. I pound my keyboard and cast words into cyberspace. I look at images of people I do not know and places I cannot be, but I feel a connection to others I have never met. In a chorus of voices I join a protest that makes no noise. With the force of a tidal wave our anger and resolve races across blogs and webpages. In a silent riot, we demand change and push for our place to be recognized and for our voices to be heard.

Roaring in the deepest jungles with a voice like a crashing river. You climb high into a tree to survey your land. Hiding in dense undergrowth, you command your band with a majestic fierceness that is the thing of legend. Having survived hardship and challenges to become supreme ruler of all that is yours. You show your silver lines with pride and wisdom. Though you can rip apart a tree with your bare hands, you still display gentleness towards the young of your band. Most noble of the great apes, you oh silver back are to be admired and respected.

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.

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.

Sinking my toes in the sand as I sit down on a deserted beach. I look at dark clouds and the overcast sky I close my eyes and hear the waves break on the shore, I hear the Sea Gulls calling around me. The cold wind blows in and sends a shiver down my spine. I lay back and open my eyes to look into the endless sky. The Steel Gray clouds mirror the color of the water or is it the other way around. At some point I cannot tell the difference as I reflect on many things while sitting by the sea.

Sunday comes and I worship God, in a church congregation. I sing the songs and I say the prayers. Then I go out and leave it there. Monday comes and I am back in the world trying to find my way . I feel so disconnected , I wonder why it is this way? He says he is with us he says we are the light, but I feel so guilty I know that this is not right. A voice says I am convicted it reminds me of my past. 6 days until Sunday I don't know how I can last. Then another voice speaks quietly and in peace it says hold on my child I am with you. From the altar to the work site I tried to find some rest 6 days until Sunday I try to do my best. I hope and pray fervently but it never seems to go away the always nagging voice it says you'll never win. Then finally in frustration my soul Cries Out, it's more than just one day of that there can be no doubt, for in Jesus We Are Holy for he is the victor and it's not just one day that we can worship and 6 days be a sinner.

Turning a phrase, and deflecting the answer. Some people are experts of deception, subversion. They use words in particular fashion to reinvent the meaning of a question. They will dance around the idea of truthfulness as if they were in a chorus line . With the agility of a gymnast and the precision of a fine watch, they craft their speech ever so carefully. Never will you get a direct answer, for they are the master puppeteers and will only present the truth they wish you to see.

Laying down upon petals so soft, fragrant and alluring. Lost in the sublime contentment of luxury and bliss, forgetting all of my cares. Awaiting the one who loves me, my betroth, my beloved. Aching to explore passion on a bed of seduction. Enticing nothing but love and happiness in a place of beauty and peace. Wrapped in each others arms as my lover finds me, content to surrender while sleeping on a bed of Roses.

I hate you and I want you to die. Your immature and you cannot be responsible. Back and forth the words fly. Doors slam, and tempers flare. A child rebels and a parent cries. Plates are shattered and harsh words are said. A door slams shut and a heart is broken. Lives are torn apart when we sling arrows of discontent at one another.

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

My last guy was a heel, but I guess that is how it had to end. Soon he will know what an app is when I use my smart phone to get revenge. Once we were joined at the hip and on our social network. Now I will intercept his every text and e-mail alert. I will upload all of his forgotten photos to Instagram and post to all of his Face Book friends. I will reply to all of his steamy text and give out his new girls phone numbers to all of his friends. With live streaming I will observe him, as he is in his natural state. Lounging around his back yard in his boxers with fuzzy house shoes on his feet. I will make him famous with his new Twitter account, the tweets that he will send, will be what everyone is talking about. I will post his photo to special dating sites and photo shop him into certain parades. Everyone will love his new Rainbow tattoo, it will make him all of the rage. When I am finished, he will be utterly alone. All of this will be accomplished, simply by using my smart phone.

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

Hair covered in white flakes like a dusting of jewels from heaven. Cheeks rosy red from the cold. Mittens and a jacket tight upon her, her laugh is like music of another world. Filled with joy as she tosses snowballs at me, eyes full of light and life. A smile that could melt the coldest heart and a soul as gentle as the first snow fall. Her embrace is like spring in December. A love that has no end. The light of her caring brings joy where ever she goes, to her everyone is a friend. What could I have done to deserve her caring and attention. Only heaven could have made such a perfect love, a snow angel sent from heaven to love me and give me a gift that I do not deserve.

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.

In a dream, I see the white snow covering the landscape. All is pristine and white, like a blank slate. The flakes can each be seen, an individual master piece carved to it's own design. I feel no chill from the cold, only peace and harmony. I walk barefoot into the white and realize that I left no mark. The snow felt soft beneath my feet, but I walked as light as air upon it. Then looking back, I saw no imprint. I looked around and saw that my clothing had become radiant white. I wondered for a moment what this meant, then a inner voice said that this is your story. The snowfall of heaven has wiped your slate clean and you may write your own verses. What you imagine will be so and what you do not wish will not be. I awoke from the dream and looked around and saw snow begin to fall. I realized that I had been to another world where all things are possible, but for now I must walk through this life in hopes of reaching my dream.

Water rises from the earth and forms into clouds. Rising to the edge of the heavens the clouds cool and settle out. As the wind churns the moisture, little crystals form. Each unique in it's own beauty, they begin to fall down. Coming to the earth in small and wondrous designs, every individual snow flake is a singular work of art. All of the flakes join together and blanket the earth, bringing cold and cleansing. When we look at the snow flake, let each of be reminded of our own uniqueness and how while individually special, that we are all joined together in our own special way just as the snow flakes are in beauty and cleansing before renewal on cold winters day.

Caw caw caw cries a black bird in a tree. From a like high up in a weathered lifeless oak, the bird stares at me. A cold wind blows by and a chill runs down my spine. Caw caw cries the black bird as it takes flight. Down the bird descends beneath dark and dreary skies, landing on a solitary Grey rock caw caw caw it calls to me. I stop and stare into the dark messengers eyes. Now I understand the Ravens purpose and why the Ravens cries. Come come come is what it says to those who are about to die.

Let the sun fade into the horizon and let the start peer through the veil of heaven. Let the fires be lit and the songs be sung. Let the darkness fall like a tapestry being drawn over the land. Do not fear the impending darkness, for light must give way to night. Young eyes will grow heavy and  seek slumber. Older voices will speak and embrace around a merry hearth. In the cool of the darkness lovers will secretly embrace. Comfort will be found and rest will come at the end of a days labors. Take no thought for a little darkness, nor fear that the light will not come again. Winters come and seasons change, but the night does not leave. So it was when all things were, even until the end. Let it be a peace and comfort unto you, for rest is upon us and so comes the night once again.

In each moment of each day, life is ever present. Though we do not see it, things live around us. In the most unlikely places life occurs and the struggle to survive goes on. When we think nothing is happening, we fail to stop and see the abundance of wonder placed before us. Our only focus is to ourselves, and in this we miss a greater truth. We are only one part of a greater existence. As individuals we are all equal in this. We move along with other things around us to be part of this life in which something is always happening.

When the journey becomes too great the world will flee. Family will turn away and friends will not be found. I do not hold them to account, because some trials must be mine alone. If I am to come into my destiny, I may have to be tried by fire, but it will temper me. It is god who orders my path, so I must press on. The things that seem for my harm will work for his glory and my good. Sometimes I must walk alone.

On a lazy path covered with Jasmine and Silver Maples, I walk back in time. In the partial shade of over hanging tree limbs, I close my eyes and feel the cool southern breeze. I smell the ambrosia that fills the air as the blossoms from flowers and trees mix to form a perfume quite like no other. I open my eyes and I can see barefoot children running down a dirt path to a deep and slow moving creek. I see cane poles flopping in the wind and hear the sound of rocks skipping across the water. Trapped in the images of home, I fade with the memories and let myself get lost in time. I find myself at a no particular destination, far away from the rest of the world. I just sit on a log somewhere past nowhere in particular.

From the deepest blue of the ocean a mighty giant rises. Calling into the dark depths then rising to meet the sun, it lifts it's mass out of the darkness into the radiant light in a display of power that is seldom seen. It's haunting echoes call to your soul as you listen in the dead deep silence. Only the sound of the waves churning can be heard from the distance surface world. As you fall with the mighty ocean giant back into the nether region of the abyss from which it rose, the Blue Whales song calls in a unique harmony that only a few can appreciate.

Hear the whistling wind. See the snow flakes fall. Look at ice crystals as they glisten like jewels on tree limbs. School is cancelled for a snow day and children laugh and fall down on patches of ice as they skate and sled. Hot chocolate had replaced iced tea and marsh mellows stick to your nose as you try to eat hot smores. The heat of summer has vanished and the bluster of fall has gone. Now is a joyous and restful time as the song of winter is sung.

A deep bowl on a cold winters day filled with all of the good things that life can bring. When you mix the best of everything or the best of everyone, you make a soup that is worth eating or ideas that are worth sharing. Either way it can fix what is wrong with the soul.

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

Rusted cars in over grown fields, and abandoned cotton mills. Creeks that run cold and deep under old rustic bridges. Dirt roads and open fields that seem to run forever and go no where. Cottonwood trees and Magnolias, that fill the air with fragrance and dampness after the rain. Children chasing each other in a game of tag beneath a Willow tree. The smell of fried chicken and fresh bread at Sunday supper. Time moving slow as the sun sets over history. A land not in a hurry to change. This is the place of my birth, this is my Southern legacy.

Sitting under a moon lit sky, watching the Spanish Moss sway in the wind. Listening to crickets chirp and lighting bugs flash. The smell of honey suckle fills the air as the stars fill the heavens. Dogs can be  heard barking as they run through the woods some distance away. The smell of apple pie comes from the kitchen giving a reminder that supper is almost ready. The air begins to cool and the night settles in as the sound of a rocking chair creaks on an old wooden porch. Perfection is not achieved, but it comes mighty close. This is what can be found on just about any southern night.