Saturday, March 22, 2014
Friday, March 21, 2014
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Suffering roots love
Joseph. A good name.
You've got to love a good story.
My sister's birthday.
However it is celebrated, wherever.
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Broken bandwagon
Robert Reich is so helpful about economic inequality.
I almost feel there's a remote chance a hopeful thought might arise in my doubting assessment anyone cares to stop the crippling direction of things in this bedraggled and frayed capitalistic demoting democracy.
I'm chary.
And a bit sorry.
Monday, March 17, 2014
There's a welcome on the mat
When in high school we'd march in the St Patrick's day parade. The beers we ordered in 3rd avenue bars we were far too young to have been served.
But that was long ago.
Tonight there are no beers, no parade, no noise.
I light a candle for my family. Sip,water from an old juice bottle. Nibble 4berry pie. Take pills for what I'll surely die from.
And settle in bed.
Content.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
an angel falls through nothing without fear
Songs of drinking and drunkenness. Radio lyric desolation of cultural St Patrick’s Day cliche.
Not that it isn’t or wasn’t true.
Still...
what’s that? |
Sun climbs, moves east, the iced dooryard remains hard and fast.
Rob McCall speaks about living way out on the two-lane bumpy roads of Maine.
The Muslim scholar wants us to remember that beauty is the invitation to leave thought and dwell watchfully with inner rest and contemplation.
God has left thought and slowly turns in music of mood encountering no expectation.
To be what is passing is to unsee God in a heart without external measurement.
take ball; go home |
Once touched by the light, there is only the remaining nap to fall into.
And through.
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