"To err is human"

To be imperfect like life itself
To be dependent on one's environment

The endless thirst to improve one's lot
To be in pain at one point
To relax sometimes
To be Unstable like the waves
Never constant at anything

To be human

Is to want

To crave attention
And love perhaps
To think you are imperfect
To be good (kind, peaceful, holy)
To be evil ( Sin)

When a spirit becomes flesh it becomes a subject to human nature

Knows pain and sorrow
And joy sometimes
Sees the lingering darkness
And the pursuit of happiness

To be The Christ is to know the Truth
To be lost to self
To be completely free

The eight lines left on the now desolate Aramaic weaving table meant a whole night had gone. The silence was also deafening across the night sky. So I muzzled up every ounce and left the chamber somewhat relieved.

At the Square there was a booming crowd of Corinthians, and traveling Bermudians and Jews alike. One whispered "Death", another said "innocence". You could only whisper for there was a wide hunt for his followers. To see for myself I surfed through the crowd for a better view of the podium. On a fishing boat I found hope and a chance to see the chaos that were rumored in town.

"Dear Sir, do you see anything??" Inquired someone.

"I think so"

I picked the young chap off the muddy ground and together we shared the moment.

"I know that man" said he.

"Which of them?"

"The Carpenter"

" The what? First or second?"

"You don't know him" he said looking amazed. For the first time I noticed his blue eyes. They were so clear that you would think they are diamonds. There was something divine about the child.

" The one at the center. He is innocent. He would have lived if he had abandoned his preaching."

" How did you know that??" I asked, somewhat embarrassingly. How can a child know so much?

"I have followed him all my life. Now you too can" he said. Then he begged to leave and disappeared into the crowd.

I have been too occupied to socialize. Perhaps I would have seen him face to face or heard about his campaign and trials. I have been in my comfort place. Maybe I would have touched him too like one old lady Mr. Mathew talked about at the bar. Oh dear, it was even The Christ that she touched

One long night is gone
there is no sign of you
nor the loud street noise
Just the light of the moon
Folks said silence is gold
so I keep my fly with me
and do as I was often told
but you still remain all I see
when I close my teary eyes
beneath this silent night sky
the blue stream is holding out
for as long as you are away
sometimes the birds sing loud
they chose the best note to play
I live with this firm rare new hope
that some day you will come home

The old river still flows on
into the valleys now too deep
overwhelmed by the rising Sun
from above the deep green Sea
splitting our world to new twos
The new star is nowhere in sight
the others buried in sand dunes
each placed in old blue narrow lines
all looking keenly at the old flames
every one has to die what a shame
as for earth she will always go on
bringing to life a new different world
for the ancient hand still makes anew
every cell in all things that once grew

Love is naturally overtime
It goes deep as it unfolds
with endless silver lines
and is sometimes dead cold
In my old own fiery Sun
i have seen love endure
the toughest of situations
lines of dark comprehensions
have seen you grow
a house to a sweet home
peace in sweet plenty
and a heart hardly empty

If ever its up to me to say
or chose what track to play
You already know its you
apart from the time we knew
that above all things we can
just try the best we still have
nothing else matters but us
so its okay to say you love
the feelings that you once felt
we know even a rock can melt
So Renee this is me hoping again
that you consider the bright lanes
and those words I sent to you
I can hardly see a faith this true