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If you have lost a family member through illegal drug use,  the following commentatary offers a different point of view to explain the “why,” that we are losing so many of our loved ones to illegal drug usage.

As a child and latter as a young adult, I was always terrified of illegal drugs.  Perhaps it was my Catholic school upbringing through my first eight grades of school that instilled this respectful fear within me.  As a young boy of about eight years old,  I recall teenage boys in a school yard, asking me to sniff white power that was enclosed in the silver wrapper of chewing gum.  I asked, “What is it?” and the boys replied, “Baking Power.”  My answer at the time was, “I am not sniffing baking power up my nose, ” and ran away from them.   Latter as a young adult, I realized that the powder was herion in its powdered form.  I guess the young boys who were around 13 and 14 where looking for a younger boy to “bend over.”

It was now December of 1959, as a 17 year old young man I was home on leave from six months of basic training and tech school in the Air Force.  About the second day in my home in our Bronx apartment in New York City, I went with my Mother to do some grocery shopping at the local A@P store.  While shopping, I came across an old junior high school classmate who was now working full time in stacking groceries.  His nickname was “Crazy Horse” a tall good looking blond haired and blue eyed German boy of sixteen.  He had quit school in the middle of the tenth grade.  “Crazy Horse” was known to smoke a lot of pot.

Upon seeing him, I asked him, how he was doing, and was in still “smoking that crazy stuff?”  His reply was, “Oh No Man, I have graduated, I am now ‘Mainlining it.’”   This meant he was now an heroin addict.  It was six months latter in my permanent duty station with SAC in the Air Force, that my Mother mentioned in a letter to me, that “Crazy Horse” had died of an overdose of heroin.   

It was early in 1970, at age 28 that I married my now ex-wife of fourteen years.  The package came with three step-children, ages six, eight and nine,  two boys and a girl.  The youngest named Philip, I believe got into drugs as early as 13.  My wife at the time was always very protective of him, thereby preventing the influence of a man in his life, that being me, as his step-father.  Perhaps that explains why he had a “coming out” as a homosexual in the eight grade in school in McKinney, Texas.  It was not the most accepted lifestyle of a young boy in McKinney, Texas in those days.  Philip was a major factor in our divorce 14 years latter.  My ex chose him and his taking and selling of drugs, as well as his stealing ways over our marriage.  Today, at age 45, he is either in Huntsville again or living with his Mother.  Drugs did destroy his life, and I am sure it still is today.

It was April 21st, 2009 that I signed into on a McKinney, Texas website.  The reason was to further promote and encourage voters in our city to (1) actually vote and (2) Relate the reasons for my choice for Mayor, a Brian Loughmiller was the better choice.  Mr. Loughmiller did win the election for the new Mayor of McKinney, Texas.  Also our standard turn out for local elections which is generally four to five percent of the registered voters of our community was in excess of ten percent.

It was about this time, that the owner/founder of this McKinney news website invited me to be a volunteer staff writer for the site.  I explained beside community volunteer services, my hobby focus was spiritually centered poetry writing.  I have two non-profit books published to date, with a third one set for publication in early winter.  All profits from these books go to serve the ”homeless” cause in the State of Texas.  Upon the posting of my poetry work, I found my work slandered and attacked by unnamed site members.  I asked the owner of the site to ban those attackers, which she refused to do.  One of the attackers who signed on the site within a few days of my sign on proceeded to continue to slander me by my actual name on the site, as well as create a blog website on the web with the same purpose in mind.  The owner of the McKinney site refused to ban this individual or remove their slanderous thread from the site.  I promptly removed all my postings from the site.  

It was then that I discovered the premise of my commentary in closely reading the posts of one of the staff writers of the site, who seems to be highly glorified by the site.  In this individuals writing in reviewing past posts, he proceeded to make fun of the Chief of our McKinney Police Department, McKinney registered voters, as well as those who ran for city offices, but the worse was to come in one of his most recent posts.

In this post he proceed to brag that “used large quantities of crack.”  Today, the Internet is still a new world when it comes to law enforcement.  One can easily find themselves facing a felony charge for threatening  bodily harm on the Internet.  Of course, child porn is quickly investigated and prosecuted. Yet according to direct quotes from the Sheriff of Collin County and the Chief of the McKinney Police Department, no law is broken by one bragging on the use of illegal drugs on the Internet.  With thousands of young people in this country dying everyday from experimenting with illegal drugs, why is such an outrage tolerated in our country under the freedom of speech guidelines.  When a death threat is given on the net to a specific individual, it is a crime; yet an individual can brag about drug usage which draws hundreds to try such drugs out, with dozens of deaths, as the result, there is no crime.  It is truly time for decent individuals in this country to change this law.  It is time to protect our children by not supporting websites, newspapers, television programs, and the products advertised from such programs.  We must make a stand and say that when free speech involves inviting others to consider destructive behavior in trying and using illegal drugs, then it is time for this aspect of free speech to be changed.  It is our future, and the lives of our children that is at stake here.    

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Veteran
Veteran

A True Story about a sharing of an incident with my fellow Air Force recruits.  In memory of all our veterans in celebration of Memorial Day and July 4th.

Back in 2004 and 2005, I was very involved in volunteer service in my HOA in the community of Eldorado, in McKinney, Texas.  At the time, I was given the opportunity of have a sub website under the servers of a national organization representing the interests of homeowners living in HOA communities  This major website and organization rendered me this sub website under their banner and servers, for the purpose of posting my own published poetry writing and further have the opportunity to encourage other poets to post on such a site. 

The sub site, internationalpoets.net became very popular.  In fact, in an eight month period, the site received over forty thousand hits.  The following link will take you to a story I posted at the time in celebration of Memorial Day.  It related my personal experience in basic training in my four years of active duty in the U.S. Air Force with a picture included.  Hopefully by going to this link, if you have not been in the military, in service for our country, it will give you insight to the great bonds that service personnel form: Click link

http://www.ahrc.com/new/index.php/src/news/sub/article/action/ShowMedia/id/2266

I have held a Federal Firearms Dealer’s license for many years.  In the course of taking many volunteer courses regarding law enforcement and community service, I have found the arm of the DEA to have some of the highest quality of agents in the federal government.

Unlike, so many arms of the federal government, DEA agents are well educated and have people skills beyond reproach.  They are easy to talk to about any personal concerns a citizen may have in personal experiences, in having knowledge or dealing with negative experiences with possible individuals that have succumb to various illegal drugs.

The Dallas Office of the DEA is headed up by the Special Agent in Charge, James L. Capri.  They can be contacted at 214-366-6900.  If you observe or have information concerning drug operations in your community, their tip address on line is: www.usdoj.gov/dea/submit_tip_form.htm

Even though our Collin County Sheriff’s office does a great job in drug enforcement and investigation, many times the case load, takes time to work though.  Same holds true with our own McKinney Police Department, which also does an excellent job in drug enforcement in the McKinney area.  Many times, the DEA itself has access to a much larger info base than local law enforcement, as well as up to date Internet tracking tools unavailable to some local law enforcement agencies.

 

The item itself,
was of no great value.
It was a matter of principle with me.
Keeping track of things in my life,
seemed important to me.
It was my way of confirming to myself,
that I had control in my life ,
and over my life.
The truth was, I did not.
I looked for days
for that item.
Sometimes checking the same place,
more than a half a dozen times.
This was at a time in my life,
that I was asking God,
if my life was pleasing to Him,
and I was serving His will.
A place that I had looked into
many times before,
a black zippered bag,
I opened it,
and looked into it,
the sixth time.
To my utter surprise,
with a chill of discovery,
the item laid plainly
before my eyes. 
The item was now there.
Was it a miracle rendered to me?
Was I blinded to seeing it before?
Did God, give me sight,
where I had none before?
God speaking to me in His way?
Thank you God,
for hearing me,
for loving me,
and letting me know,
You are
truly God.
I am only for you.
A kiss given here
or a caress there.
Together, our lives are a bouquet
marked by each petal of love
gently falling away
to our time together.
A bright blue sky day.
Water, with a spray of diamonds.
Rays of warmth upon my face.
You at my side,
with that special smile
that I love above all expressions,
that pass over your face each day.
Let us hold this close to us,
in what seems not enough time for
just the two of us.
Cherish this day,
love this day,
with all we have.
For we will never know,
how many,
if any,
of these days are before us.
We have each other,
with our love for one another.
What could be worth
more than just this day?
Within my soul beats the heart of my eternity.
Memories within a mind not forsaken,
nor to ever be forgotten.
Long kisses,
held close,
to the soul of us,
in love,
and in sadness,
still brings light.
That is my fate,
that is my wish,
that the beauty of this moment,
will forever be.

I, like most folks, have stories from my past, that never seem old in the retelling.  The following story concerning my Mother is one of those stories.  For a period of three years, prior to 2004 and a year after, I wrote monthly volunteer community articles for both the Dallas News and my local paper, The McKinney Courier-Gazette.  It was a great time in my life, in seeing my articles bring some positive changes to my community, as well as a few enemies.  It is truly amazing how the “ring of truth” in a series of written community articles has a way of conflicting with the “self-interests” of  “self-serving politicians” in a local community. The sub-line to to this story is:  Sometimes it takes courage to make changes in ones’ life. 

Sometimes it takes courage to make changes in ones’ life.  This is especially true when it comes to the negative things people find in their own communities.  I learned this lesson early in my young life from the example of my mother and her strong desire to see fairness and justice given to those around her, as well as for herself.

I recall a particular incident as a young boy in Bronx, N.Y. when my younger brother and I went with my mother to do our weekly grocery shopping.  We shopped at an A&P store approximately a dozen blocks from our third-floor walk-up apartment.  Since my parents did not own own a car (an unnecessary luxury for a low-income family in New York City), it was always a long walk to and from shopping for groceries.

It was an especially long walk home that particular Saturday in July.  The heat from the concrete streets had no mercy, with each of us carrying two grocery bags.  Once we arrived home, it was always my mother’s habit to check each grocery item purchased against the grocery checkout slip, to insure that we were fairly charged for each item.  Each item was diligently checked off with a pencil on the very long slip that day.  This occurred in the early 1950’s prior to bar codes when each item was marked with its selling price.  She discovered a 5-cent over-charge in her counting.

To the dismay of my brother and I, our mother proceeded to place all the groceries back into the bags.  It was a near-death experience for all three of us fighting the heat in the return walk back to the store with our six bags of groceries  (Yes, this was in the days that a dollar actually brought a dollar’s worth of groceries, and not fifty dollars for three small plastic bags).

Since it was a Saturday morning, the store was filled with customers as my mother exclaimed to the store manager that she had been overcharged.  The manager quickly offered to just give her back the nickel to quiet her.  In a loud voice, my mother insisted that each item, in each bag be run again through the register.  The 5-cent overcharge was discovered while a large crowd gathered around the register and observed the counting.  With growing embarrassment, the store manager gave my mother her nickel to the clapping hands of the watching crowd.

Several week later, a major New York newspaper exposed a scam about A&P stores in the Bronx, where checkers were discovered to be purposely overcharging customers and splitting the money at the end of the day among themselves.  My mother was always proud of her contribution to that discovery.  I will never forget the important lesson I learned that day.  We truly can make a difference in our world if just have the courage to do so.

If you and I met at a different time in space and place,
would we be more than people who passed formal greetings?
Would our eyes pierce the beauty of our souls,
beyond the imperfections of flesh, to the heart of us?
In your eyes, would I see more than me?
Would we know at that moment that something
wonderful was happening for you and me,
at a time in starless memory?
Could we have been lovers,
entwined in the depth of each other,
warm and soft against the cold days of black nights,
to rise together with joy and ecstasy?
Could we always have had a love
that had been one in unity for us?
The moment passes quickly.
My being reaches for that moment;
it is already gone.
Many have the belief that there is perfection this world.
It does not exist on this earth and plane for us.
We are only privileged to see, feel and hear parts of
perfection, but never the whole of perfection.
The pieces that represent the beauty of God and heaven
are shown in glimpses each day,
in our lives on this earth.
It is our soul that catches these flashes of eternity,
and renders us the perfection of God.
It is through prayer and centering ourselves in the
love of God, that we are privileged to gain knowledge
of the eternity that is before us.
shipinroughseasA Ship in the sea of life.
riding each wave of life,
seeking the warm sun of each day,
the beauty of each dream as night falls,
is never lost,
as it heads toward the curve
of each horizon.
Storms will blow,
onward do we flow
in love and courage
by His Hand.
Tomorrow brings the knowing in His love,
the vastness of the ocean
is not so alone.
As long as we believe,
we will never be alone,
for His love
surpasses all of this,
this and time beyond
this brief sea of life.
A beautiful day beckoned.
The sides of the hills were golden
with fields of grain. 
The Cypress trees were green
among great expanses of gleaming, flat rocks.
An ideal day born for the enjoyment of the sun,
and the wondrous words of the Master.
The crowd began to thin toward the afternoon sunset.
The Master was weary.
Many were the questions of the day.
The answers required much of His strength to loudly speak
The words of wisdom to the crowd.
As the Master prepared to depart,
a young man in the crowd shouted a question
in His direction.
The Master’s followers tried to quiet the man
to preserve their Lord’s voice.
They knew He was exhausted from the
long day of preaching.
The young man shouted again,
“Master, what can I in my life that would be
pleasing to my Lord and God?”
 In hearing this question,
the crowd stopped movement
in their departure.
The crowd turned as one toward
where the Master stood.
Raising up to His full height,
the Master looked over the crowd
with the kindest of smiles and He said,
“The mirrors of your own souls are within the eyes of
your brothers and sisters.
If you see hunger in those eyes around you,
break the bread and share it.
If you see sorrow,
share your tears with your brethren.
If fear overcomes your neighbors,
stand with them,
for numbers overcome fear.
Above all of these,
love your neighbor,
as you love your children.
My love protects your brethren,
as it protects you.
This sharing of your love in my Father’s name
will be pleasing to your Lord and God,
In this sharing of your love without reserve,
without reward,
without a counting,
will you be given,
the glories of eternity.”
These words were spoken this day 
by the Master of my life.
He stood quietly in the room.
His voice, though low in tone,
seemed to rock the air about Him.
The words were gentle and with love.
Pointing to the doorway, He said,
“There are many doors to eternity;
any doorway can be the right doorway to enter,
if entered with love and faith in God.
He will guide you and protect you in your travels.
First, you must learn to give complete
and unselfish love to Him.
Second, you must render complete faith in your Lord,
for whatever befalls you,
the Lord will stand at your side,
and you shall overcome,”
so spoke, the Master of my life.   
The road we travel is not the same road for all of us.
When you see someone in pain.

Reach Out!

Give some part of yourself to make their day,
a day filled with less pain.
Love goes beyond just words in our daily life.
We need to give beyond ourselves.

Reach Out!

Give a part of yourself.
You will only become more human
in your caring and giving.

Reach Out!

You too, have felt the pain of loneliness
and deep blackness.
Love came to you in blessings you never thought would be.
They came to you.

Reach Out!

Remember to share your fortune.
We are one,
that is the soul of all of us.
I have been where you are,
a hell of loneliness and despair.
Had I created this place in my past,
as you are now, where I was once?
I ask myself what pains cross your mind,
as this day of many comes to you?
Do you hunger?
Are you without sleep?
The night only brings fear for your life.
Are you without anyone who cares
where you are this day?
Are you missed?
I, too, have been where you are.
From ashes of the mind did thou raise me,
from a pit of worldly hell.
It was not my talents of mind
nor spirit that lead me from this dark world.
It was my prayers.
You never failed to hear me,
when I cried out to you.
When I tried to end this life,
you spoke gently to me,
asking me to be patient
and wait one more day.
One day lead to another.
Finally, the sun began to shine again,
in your blessings and your love for me.
Thank you Lord,
for giving hope to the hopeless,
as you gave to me.
Thank you Lord,
for loving me when I was without love.
Yea, Lord, without your grace,
would now I be lost.  
If I should die before you,
I will await you on a silver beach,
with a golden sun.
If I should die before you,
time will not move,
until your steps are heard behind me.
I will know it is you.
I will hear your eternal breath,
your low laughter as you approach
to join me.
If I should die before you,
on the most perfect of days,
together, we will watch the waves,
the breakers, making only the most
perfect of patterns
in a world that never has a bad day,
on a silver beach
with a golden sun,
in a special place,
for you and me.
When such pain goes beyond
metal against metal,
pushing and tearing,
beyond the tolerances of strength.
Truly, oh, what passion
lies within thee,
when finding release again,
in one who will truly love you again,
in the truth of their spirit and heart.
Heart be still,
mind, be of strength,
love awaits.
This time to carry you beyond
the eternal doors of joy and happiness.
I have walked through the waters of sorrow.
Tears, blocking the sun of day,
as I stumbled each step of the way.
My voice softened to a whisper of sound,
in calling my Lord.
I am weary from pushing these feet,
wanting to rest, but cannot.
Was the answer I seek finally before me?
It was only when I finally gave up on me,
and turned to thee, that the answer awaited me.
Only through sorrow and pain,
can we know what Jesus gave us through His death.
Death of the mind, death of desire, death of worldly want,
only then can we surrender to His will,
and give up our own,
do we find Him, in the midst of eternal love.
A garment of light to carry us forward,
so that we never will shed a tear again.  
We only come this way…once,
with only one gift
to give to others.
The gift is ourselves.
Without payment or reward,
we give our all for some cause,
more worthy than self.
What could be a finer or more treasured gift?
In giving, we are passing on the greatest of gifts,
which was taught by one,
a very long time ago.
He gave His life to grant eternity for our souls.
His wonderful gift has neither equal nor comparison.
We can only try to reflect His treasure in our own human weakness,
by trying to give the gift of our love to humanity.
True love, in Jesus’s character,
is unselfishly placing others,
above ourselves. 
I am glad I am here,
to remember you.
In recalling our time together,
there were many joys.
There were also times of sorrow,
we shared in those times.
We had something very special,
in the friendship we shared.
It has been many years,
since you passed on,
still,  I think of you,
each day,
and remember. 
I carved our initials in the Tree of Life.
What value has love, in ‘death, do us part?’
Is love a flash of light in the long darkness of night?
Flesh to flesh in being born,
then death, without memory,
unable to behold,
to recall at will in deep detail.
Will thoughts become ashes,
that are scattered in a soft wind?
My love to you, dearest one,
is forever more,
upon the Tree of Eternal Life,
from the first garden,
of eternal promise.
A promise of Love,
never lost,
but always remembered,
in the heart of our Lord,
that will never be lost,
or forgotten,
in the passing of time. 
Is not passion, part of being human,
part of the eternal of all of us?
Burn on, those ancient memories of love,
never lost, but remembered in the heat
of the mind, felt in the heart, living in the soul.
Let me live, knowing that once, or many times,
was I truly loved, beyond all of this,
to where there is a place special to only us.
A place that my hand never feels alone.
My breast never aches for your touch.
My loins never feel the cold of night.
In that love that binds us,
forever held in each other’s arms.
Through this time, forever in our one love,
beyond end, forever to be always,
you and me.
Fear not in returning to the den of thy enemies,
the Lord is thy shield against all thy enemies.
The Lord has declared the destruction
of all those,
who curse you,
slander you,
plot against you,
and attempt to destroy you.
Return to the den of thy justice,
and tribulation in hand.
Watch,
as justice is carried out,
as the heads of thy evil enemies,
roll beneath your feet. 
I awoke with a start this A.M.
One thirty in the morning,
like it was getting up time.
My mind reviewed my life,
in what seemed a ten minute review.
I realized that my happiness,
was not an on going thing,
but living each day with punches
of emotion from time to time.
Flashes of awareness of time
coming to a dimming light.
I thought of shopping
at the grocery store
the other day.
The dark haired young lady,
a black sweater,
jeans, and flowing
black hair.
Passing me in the aisle,
both of us,
avoiding the other’s eyes,
afraid to confront the other,
in passing.
At the last moment,
we looked at each other.
Her face flashed into an
explosion of a smile toward me.
All I could do,
was sheepishly,
smile back.
I thought,
“What is this old fart,
smiling at this beautiful,
young woman;
what does she see in me,
to bring such a smile?”
Perhaps she saw,
the ghost of my youth passing.
At that moment,
I thought,
“Life has it’s moments,
flashes of insight coated in
sheer delight and happiness,
a sliver of time,
in our daily lives.”   
Often, I think of you
in the time of our youth,
when it was just us.
Sunshine glowed when we were together.
The grief of our former lives made us a pair.
Then, our lives were simpler,
filled with few things,
but rich in much love.
Somethimes I wonder if you think of me on occasion.
Did you put aside, as I have,
the separation of our love,
the anger,
the hurt,
that we both suffered?
Beauty is in those memories.
The thoughts of us at that time are sweeter
and more beautiful when they cross my mind.
In daydreams of simpler times,
my thoughts question where you are now
and did you find happiness?
Did you have the children, that we never had?
Althought many years have passed,
I send to you my love from a former time,
with blessing for your happiness.
I also send my wish and hope,
that in the eternity to come,
we will meet as loving friends.
Until then, often, I will think of you.

Sometimes, a tear comes to my eye.
At first, I know not why.
Then it comes,
the links of the past.
Moments of tenderness,
of love,
that seen imprinted
forever in my soul.
It has not been with so much as one,
but many,
in the links together,
in a chain of life.
Some moments were of extreme sadness,
some joy beyond belief,
some with the surprise of a child,
in discovering something.
A light ignited within me,
that before, was not there.
It was just a moment,
a look into the eyes of another,
that said that these few seconds,
were very special.
A touch unlike no other.
The tear is for the longing of such moments,
and time spend
in just loving another,
in those special ways,
that will never go away.
The Master’s hands were strong and hard
from years of work as a carpenter,
just like his father.
The creation of His hands had a gentle quality
such as the toy camel and shepherd
He was crafting this night.
His sister had begged Him to make a toy for her child.
With love and humor, He worked several nights.
In the back of the villa, the room was small and cramped,
making the carving difficult as the oil lamp light flickered.
Entering the doorway with a quiet sweep of the door blanket,
came His sister’s oldest son.
Many questions burned in the mind
of this young man on this night.
Quietly, he approached the Master
so as to not disturb His carving.
The young man whispered,
“Master, do you have time to speak with me?”
Gently and with love, the Master set the little wooden carving
aside and reached for the boy’s shoulder saying,
“What is troubling you this night,
son of my sister?”
The boy replied,
“I am afraid about death
and where I will go when I die,
since no one alive,
has ever been to the place that dead people go,
and returned.
How am I to know what to expect?”
With patience and the deepest of kindness
toward the concerns of the young man,
the Master spoke,
“Telling humanity of the world beyond death
would be like explaining
the sight of sunrise or sunset to a person
who had always been blind,” and He further explained,
“Beyond our lifetime is a world inconceivable to the
senses of man,
beyond every gift rendered in this world around us. 
It is a world of being in the midst of eternal love
and never fearing again.
It is knowing light beyond any light we now know of
in this world.
It is never being alone again,
but cherished in the arms of a mother,
so will it be in the arms of our God forever
in eternal love,
peace and happiness.”
So He spoke to me,
the Master of my life.  

 

 
Author’s note: Posting this poem is very difficult for me, hence the reason I must post it in parts. I appreciate your patience in reading it.
…………………………………………………………………………………
The first time I saw Rhonda, she was nine.
A dirty face, she had, that looked up at me with a look of loss,
and string long hair, in a badly worn homemade dress.
Her feet, without shoes, looked like they had not been washed in a week.
She could have easily posed for an adoption poster.
You know the kind, with the desolate landscape in the background.
I had dated her mother for about a month.
She never told me about these other two children,
the ones her aging elderly parents were keeping for her.
One morning, as I awoke from her bed,
she had already left early for work,
and left a note on the dresser.
The note said, “I now this will be over for us.
I never told you this,
but I have two more children,
and not just one, in my six year old boy.”
(to be continued)
The note went on,
telling of her love for me,
telling of her fear of losing me.
An apology for not telling me about the children,
when she first met me.
She revealed the truth of her lie,
that she had three children,
not just one.
That evening when I stopped by her place,
I could see the tears,
the fear in her eyes.
I said, “Let’s meet those two other children.”
(to be continued) 
As the beginning of this poem indicates,
there was Rhonda,
her eight year old brother,
standing next to her,
who looked even more pitiful
with his bowl haircut.
It was Rhonda,
who took my heart away that day.
Fourteen years latter,
shortly after Rhonda graduated from college,
with her proud Master’s Degree in Music Education,
I divorced her mother.
(to be continued) 
Rhonda and I went out to lunch
prior to the divorce date from her mother. 
Rhonda Lewis was her name.
She turned out to be a beautiful woman.
Her hair was long,
blond and beautifully cut.
Her eyes were a strong blue,
with a direct look of confidence.
As I spoke to her that day,
she looked at me as a detached doctor.
There was no emotion in her eyes.
I told her,
I could not love her any more,
if she were my own daughter.
I wanted desperately to keep my relationship with her,
as her father.
Her words came from her lips like a sword to me.
“I cannot do that,” she said,
“I must remain loyal to my mother.”
I explained I understood that would always love her mother,
her feelings had nothing to do with my feelings,
for she would always be “my little girl.”
Her mind was firm.
I was left in ashes.
(to be continued) 
I heard later,
that Rhonda had her PhD in Education,
and was teaching in a college in Arkansas as a professor.
It was twenty years latter,
from the date I divorced her mother,
the phone call came to my home,
while I was away on a business appointment that afternoon.
My wife took the phone call.
The neighbor said,
“I am sorry about your husband’s loss,
can I bring this dish over?”
My wife remarked,
“But my husband does not have a daughter,
you are mistaken.”
(to be continued)
That evening when I came home,
my wife related the call.
“Daughter! I don’t have a daughter, Oh my God!
Could it be Rhonda,
my little girl?”
It was evening.
Rhonda had just finished teaching a class.
She was talking to her fiance’ on her cell phone.
They had planned to be married in a week.
She was walking with a “walk” light,
across a quiet street,
when the drunk,
high on drugs,
hit her as his truck sped through the red light.
Witnesses at the scene said the impact
cut off both her legs,
and carried her over two hundred feet,
before the truck crashed into a tree,
further down the street,
crushing her tangled body,
on the front bumper of the truck.
Rhonda died at the scene,
in the caring arms of a stranger.
She was a beautiful woman of forty-two,
with all her life before her.
We had not seen each other in over twenty years,
she was my little girl then,
and she still is now, my little girl.
Rhonda will always be the little girl
who looked up to me with eyes that said,
“Take me home and love me,
for I am now,
your little girl.”  
A singular line horizontally drawn.
Above, a blue sky.
Below, a deep ocean of blue.
It it the end of the world,
or the beginning of another?
Standing still,
there is no answer.
Only by moving forward,
do we realize there is more
beyond a singular line.
Attitude?
Perspective?
Are they not one,
and the same?
After all this time,
my mind still turns to you.
Our love of embers still burning
in the halls of my memories of you.
Still reaching for the feel of you,
next to me.
The sweet smell of you,
the sound of your sleeping breath,
bringing peace to my aching soul.
Where ever you may be this morning,
know out there in the cold cold night,
there is one who loves you
beyond all that is precious to me.
After all this time,
I still love you.   
The trees,
nature speaking to us,
reminding us of a time
in the past.
A time when
men and women
were closer to God.
Closer to the beauty,
and sometimes the anger of nature,
but still beauty in all of its glory.
Yes, the trees still whisper
that we are still a part of all of this.
Nothing has replaced
our relationship with God.
All we need to do,
is take the time,
to listen to the trees.

 

My gift to you is neither gold or silver.
Diamonds can never hold the light of this gift.
Pearls will will never glow beyond the of this gift.
It is everlasting and eternal.
Within the gift is enclosed the song of angels.
Another part of the gift is the gentle breath of God,
given in love to his creatures.
In many ways, this gift has life within it,
as it changes and grows.
My only valued possession of priceless value is this gift.
I give you this gift freely without restraint.
Beyond death, it will always be yours.
I give thee my love, my love. 

  ”It Is Done” copyright 2005 John J. Rigo “Roses Amidst Thorns”

The gate stood high and firm before the light of paradise.
It had been this way for thousands of years.
The only light revealed was the light of God
through its bars.
A sound of longing was heard
from the millions of souls before its barrier.
There seemed to be no hope for reunion with God.
The day of days,
the hour of redemption
finally came to this place,
beginning with a cry of joy
from these souls.
Beyond the gates a cross appeared,
equal to the height and width of the gate.
The joy formed a song of everlasting love
on the lips of these souls.
It was a song unlike any sound ever heard before
or since this moment.
The words, “It is done,” were heard above the song.
The gate was no more.
The souls of God’s creation were returned home.  
With the passing of time,
I have come to realize that there are truly
spaces that are never filled
by the loss of friends who were very personal
to my mind and heart.
Through the years, do the memories of Cliff and Tom
constantly come to my mind.
Never are they dead in my heart.
I see each of them, special, in their concern for me
as the friends they were to me and yes,
the love they rendered to me.
Have they been replaced in the void left by their absence?
No, that no one has accomplished.
Cliff was the short, large man from the deep South,
always with a tale of lesson and advice not wanted,
but when given, seemed well placed.
He spoke of home and craw-fish,
his Mother and his victories in life,
never of his losses.
You knew he was special,
a special person to know.
The same stories he related never got old,
just deeper in meaning.
The straight-laced, IBM type of guy was Tom.
He seemed to have found victories too early in his life,
burning, dying as a shooting star.
An anger was present about him that could never be explained.
Tom loved a good meal and good drinks.
Save the waiter or waitress who spoke too much while serving!
He was there to savor the moment,
should it be his last.
As Tom’s life was coming to an end,
he maintained his pride to the last minute in a VA hospital,
wearing a blue blazer that no longer fit;
no one cared about his past.
I miss Tom’s advice to me,
his laughter at my watch that he thought was such a great sales
job because I had to push a button
to tell time.
His loud laughter rang in the night,
raising high his special drink,
to wish me and all, the best of life.
I miss both of these men.
They were the special friends of a lifetime,
never to be replaced.
They are in my heart each day,
with the warmest of love to my dearest friends,
Cliff and Tom.
Whenever you both may be in the great wonder of it all,
I am one person,
who misses you both,
oh, ever so much.
By this path,
the Lord has brought me to the present.
By this path,
I have found His love for me.
Before I found this place in His love,
I was a lost sinner in the depths of sorrow and darkness.
By this path,
My Lord has brought me everlasting joy and His glory.
I have found him, or did He find me?
Bless this path.
Bless this day.
Blessed are we, who are truly in the mist of His love. 
There was a certain grace to the look of him facing death.
He did not seem to have succumbed to the idea of dying.
He stood tall and proud with a direct look into your eyes.
His bearing, his eyes, said many things.
His eyes said he had lived a life of honor and without shame,
as to who, and what he was, as a person.
If he was guilty of any deep emotion, it was to have loved too much.
He had loved many in his life, giving all he had to give
to each relationship, without a reserve held.
He was always the one hurt the deepest in the leaving.
If you ever knew him, you would never forget him,
whether for a few minutes or several years,
in the sharing part of a day with him.
He lived as a man, protecting the ones he loved.
He loved in the best of circumstances.
He loved in the worst of circumstances.
I am glad I got to know him on a personal level.
There were days of doubt in knowing this person.
“Yes” as one said about him in a dissenting way,
“He always came out smelling like a rose.”
You ask, “How did I know this man so well?”
It was easy knowing him, for you see, he was me. 
 
We sit quietly,
you and me.
I trace your lips
with the tip of my finger.
Your smile at my joy comes so easily to you.
The corner of your mouth dimples,
showing a special wrinkle that always speaks
beauty to me.
The pressure of your lips pressed on my hand,
is warm and safe,
with just a hint of passion
during a moonlight evening.
I kiss your neck,
ever so lightly,
with a breath in a rush of air upon your ears.
You then giggle and start to laugh.
With the rise of your breasts in a deep breath,
you reach and place your lips,
warm and soft against mine.
My heart pounds within my being.
I rest on your chest,
It is a perfect evening
with just you and me.
I have found the perfect love in Jesus.
He redeemed me with His love,
when I believed none was there.
As I left the earthbound,
material things of this world,
I was lifted up to the heavens.
Before me lay the gates of joy
covered with the tears of my redemption.
Awaiting my entrance were all the people
that I ever loved and deeply grieved their passage
from this earth.
Open arms did I find; hugs of love, was I given.
Upon entering those gates of joy,
beyond sight and time,
I saw a garden laid before me.
It was a garden of the trials and tribulations
of my life on earth.
They were but one small pea
compared to a field of His love.
I have found the perfect love in Jesus.
He redeemed me with His love,
when I believed none was there.
Now, I have been found.
  
It is time to say goodbye.
I can see my sadness in your eyes.
Is this the goodbye kiss that will aways
be in your memory?
Press closer to me,
imprint my soul with your being.
Please do not look into my eyes,
the sadness will always be there,
until we are one again,
in our happiness. 
I broke your heart.
I know when the deed was done.
I knew then,
as I know now,
I was in love with you.
More afraid of failure,
than giving myself to you.
I still can hear in my soul,
the sound of your tears,
on the tape from that day.
Two hours of tears and screaming
my name in agony.
I was the center of your agony,
in my rejection of your love.
It has been twenty-five years,
since that day.
A day never goes by,
that my thoughts turn to you.
In my being,
I now know,
that the joy I knew with you then,
will only come again in my death,
and hopefully the joy of heaven.
If you are reading this,
at this very moment,
know this is one,
who will always love you.
Ever so often,
God in His mercy,
renders us the insight
of our lives.
The purpose of all of this,
which most of the time,
remains hidden.
It is a way of keeping the gift before us.
A way to show us what we are here for,
and what is ahead.
A way of sharing the joy,
to encourage us,
to reward us,
to place us on the path of wholeness.
It is but part of second,
a flash of memory that lingers on,
leaving the shape of hope
and faith bound to us,
within the depth of us.
What is the name of that song?
It does not matter, let us be silly and dance,
swirling and twirling across the floor.
Our youth flashes before our laughing faces.
Yesterdays move into the now of our beat together,
swirling steps into the footprints of ashen time.
For a golden time, our memories of the pain in our past is no more.
We have each other,
with our own very special song,
and our own very special dance. 
A ship in the sea of life.
riding each wave of life,
seeking the warm sun of each day,
the beauty of each dream as night falls,
is never lost,
as  it heads toward the curve
of each horizon.
Storms will blow,
onward do we flow
in love and courage
by His hand.
Tomorrow brings the knowing in His love,
the vastness of the ocean
is not so alone.
As long as we believe,
we will never be alone,
for His love
surpasses all of this,
this and time beyond
this brief sea of life.          
                                                                                      

 

                                                                                                                                

                                                                                                                     
I will never be far away,
no matter where you are.
My heart will always be with you.
Never will you have to seek,
to find me,
for I will always be,
as close as your heart.
There is a special place,
for you and me,
a place that will never go away.
A place where each day is made for you and me.
A place where each day becomes an eternal string of pearls,
as we love,
and laugh through each setting sun.
Rising together,
each morning,
with a song upon our lips,
singing of our love for each other,
through this eternity,
and all others,
to follow.
I closed my eyes:
The after-image of her was printed on the backside of my mind,
the look of her, neck bent backward, eyes closed.
That beautiful curve from her neck to the tip of her breast,
with a slight hint of sunrise upon the horizon of her smile.
As a spirit, I loved her,
unaware of my own physical feelings.
It seemed I could not satisfy my need
to give her my love.
The flow seemed forever.
From moment to moment, I explored her,
no part untouched or savored.
There was no shame in loving her.
We were eternal spirits reunited in the flesh of our eternity.
I opened my eyes:
I am haunted by her,
for the image remains.
There I go again,
saying something hurtful.
Your eyes take on that downward cast,
tears forming in the corner of those eyes
that I love so much.
Why am I such a fool,
in not thinking before I speak?
I pray this night for strength to hold my tongue,
should I render hurtful words to my special one.
The one who is my friend,
my caretaker,
my lover,
when no once cared for me.
One who stood at my side,
when I no longer believed in myself.
Firmly did you stand your ground,
in defense of me,
against all others.
Why cannot I do the simplest of things,
in holding my tongue,
and stupid anger toward the one of whom,
has given so much to me?
Please Lord, give me the self-discipline in my words
to be the one, with whom, this special person at my side,
fell in love with.
Let me not forget that this love can be taken away
on my part through hurt.
At whom, then, can I be angry, except myself,
when the one I love is no longer mine?
Thank you Lord, for helping me to see my shortcomings,
and giving me a chance to change.
Lord, protect me from my hurtful tongue.
A heart is a terrible thing to waste.
If one comes to you with this offering,
do not scoff too quickly.
Love is a precious gift.
It is precious to the one who gives love,
and very precious to the one who receives it.
Do not be hardened to this gift.
Accept this gift with kindness,
and tenderness.
Love is the joy of life.
Love is the light of life.
Love is the soul of life.
Be thankful and gentle,
in the receiving of love,
even if this love,
is not the love you seek.
Remember, one day,
you will be judged as a human.
You will be judged to the degree that you loved.
More importantly,
how kindly you received love.
Love, in its many forms,
is God showing
His face to us.
A heart is a terrible thing to waste. 
I have found the perfect love in Jesus.
He redeemed me with His love,
when I believed none was there.
As I left the earthbound,
material things of this world, I was lifted up to the heavens.
Before me lay the gates of joy,
covered with the tears of my redemption.
Awaiting my entrance were all the people
that I have ever loved and deeply grieved
their passage from the earth.
Open arms did I find;
hugs of love, was I given.
Upon entering those gates of joy,
beyond sight and time,
I  saw a garden laid before me.
In the garden were the trials and tribulations
of my life on earth.
They were but one small pea
compared to a field of His love.
I have found the perfect love in Jesus.
He redeemed me with His love,
when I believed none was there.
Now, I have been found. 
I seek not praise or adoration,
just the warmness of your touch.
A friendship that seeks not reward
nor return.
A connection of understanding
between these gulfs
that separate us as humans
from different times and places,
even though we have not lived the same.
Love that overcomes all barriers between us,
without fear,
without reprisal,
to continue into time without limit for us.
To finally find,
at some point ahead,
the binding of our souls,
that will never leave us,
alone again.
I am singing in the rain with you.
Our feet dancing between the raindrops.
Our cares belong to tomorrow.
Our hands clenched while skipping over puddles.
Just singing in the rain together.
This is truly what love is all about.
You and me together,
with glistening raindrops,
upon our laughing faces.
This is truly our moment,
of our love together,
just signing and dancing in the rain.
Why did it take this long
to discover how much I love you?
All those days and nights are gone now.
I could have shared that time with you more deeply than I did.
Kisses rendered with soul, instead of obligation.
Why did not share my fears with you?
Had I gotten to the place, that fear of being a fool,
was more important, than sharing my soul with you?
I say to you, my friend, remember this,
“If love sits next to you each day,
render to that love,
praise and appreciation each day.”
In so doing,
your days will not be filled with regrets,
as my days are now filled,
with spent sorrow.
Lord, Bless this day.
Bless me.
Weaken my enemies.
May I be pleasing to You,
in rendering Your Word to others.
In all the things
thou are to me,
I remember now,
then recall latter
the twinkle of your laughter
as you followed me quietly,
as I ran from you in anger
over some silly thing.
There you stood
as I turned,
with the biggest
of our smiles.
It was your way
of saying,
“I am sorry.”
As I remembered now,
you knew more than anyone,
the many ways
one can say
“I Love you.”
Did I remember also to let
you know this in my heart,
at a time when it was
important to tell you
that I also love you,
oh, so very deeply. 
Amidst us stands the Dark Angel,
joyful at each victory gained against us.
A free will to choose Good or Evil,
a gift from our Loving God,
is a part of our daily struggles.
The weapons of the Dark One are many.
Darkness that covers our mind with sorrow
in our latter years,
to place us in a void of hopelessness,
and fear.
Lost of health, lost of loved ones,
bringing doubt to our aging minds.
Are we to be snatched from His Love at our
Eleventh hour before death?
Render your darkness to God’s Love and Power.
The Lord will lift you above this Evil.
Never fear, never give in to distrust nor hate,
in the darkness that attacks you .
The Dark One’s only reward in eternity is suffering;
while yours, will be in the Light of God’s Love forever.
The meal was simple,
one of bread, fruits, and vegetables from the field.
The conversation was good-natured,
and spirited among the men.
He said among them quietly,
with a smile of love upon His gentle face.
These men had been with Him for many months.
They were closer than His brothers of birth.
He called to the server for a bowl of water,
and a simple cloth to wash His hands.
They stopped speaking, and turned to Him.
They knew the time to listen had come.
With courage, the one closest to Him asked,
“Master, how am I to know the face of evil?”
“The Serpent takes many forms,” said the Master.
He placed His hands together,
each fingertip touching the other,
forming a circle.
“Within this circle appears air,
and nothing to fear,
but I say unto you,
the Serpent can take any shape or form,
seeminly without consequences of punishment or terror,”
said the Master.
“At the beginning of eternity,
when my Father make your souls,
an awareness of knowing evil.
He rendered to your souls an eternal power against evil.
When my inner voice speaks to you,
know then,
my brothers,
evil is next to you.”
The Master, eyes lifted upward,
cautioned,
“Only by crying out your God’s name,
will you be protected from Evil.”
Then, He lowered His head sadly lamenting,
“To ignore this warning will place you in the hold
of the serpent,
and you may become forever lost.
So, I say to you,
your heavenly Master and Father,
I love you beyond the value or joys of this world.
Keep your faith,
and ye shall be with us,
in love and light in eternity.”
so He spoke to me,
the Master of my life. 
I could see the sadness in her eyes,
as each chunk of her golden hair came forth in her hand.
She place her once shining, golden flax into a plastic bag,
to be reminded of the beauty,
of her hair.
Her hair stylist assured her that baking soda,
washed gently in her hair would prevent the falling of her hair,
from her scalp.
In giving her this suggestion,
the stylist refused to cut her hair shorter,
in order to make the lost, easier to bear.
The stylist was wrong.
Bear witness to the shining and blotched scalp,
where beautiful golden hair once resided.
Nightmares of her past returned to her.
Remembrance of a childhood ring worm of her head,
returned to haunt her again,
of laughing classmates,
finger pointing to stocking capped head.
The Spector of Death upon a black chair,
drove her to the decision to move forward,
to this dreaded treatment.
Was the fear real or made to fill the pockets of her doctors?
Payments for the Rolls convertible that sat,
shiny and pale green,
in the doctor’s slot of the cancer treatment center.
A large cow-like-barn room,
where milking looking machines of death,
pumped their questionable medicine into their hosts.
A winged angel of slow death,
masked as an Angel of Life,
to claim another possible victim,
in its green flow of money,
from perhaps, its victims?
Dear God,
please protect,
the one I love so dearly,
from this possible,
self-inflicted treatment.
The night sky was a deep black with blazing stars over the Master and His disciples, this particular night along the sea of Galilee.
It was a time of quiet contemplation of the beauty of God’s work.
Within the group of His disciples, one disciple had a troubling question.
With reverence he approached the Master with his question.
“Does God’s Love for us have bounds when remembering our sins in His Eternal Memory?” asked the disciple quietly, as to not disturb the other men in the group.
The Master lifted His Head toward the night sky and pointed His finger to a bright star saying, “As you look upon the stars in the night sky, many have long changed in form, and are no more. 
The distance is so great in the travel of that light,
that we still see those suns prior to their changing of form. 
So in the breath of God’s Love for us,
it is also beyond the width, depth and height of such distances from us.
Since His Love for us is unconditional, so is His memory of our sins.
In asking His forgiveness of our sins, their memory no longer exists in eternity.”
So spoke that night,
the Master of My Life. 
It was a simple glass bottle,
that gave me a gift of song,
that day.
It was a beautiful sunny day,
on the waterfront side of my home.
With a fresh cold, iced beer,
I sat on the back porch.
The breeze was beautiful as diamonds of light,
sparkled off the water before me.
A curious thing happened as I slowly drank that beer.
The outside wind played through the empty part of the bottle. 
A song, like no other, played through the glass.
It was a haunting song of eons,
from another time.
As I drank more liquor from the bottle,
the song changed in pitch to a sweeter song.
It came to me at that moment,
that God’s gifts to us are never ending.
In prayer,
I gave thanks to God,
for His gifts to me,
that day,
and the song of the bottle.
 
 
As the old saying goes, “generally where there is smoke, there is fire.”  If you live in McKinney, Texas and suspect you have drug dealers in your neighborhood, the Sheriff’s Office of Collin County has a tipster program to deal with this.  Simply dial this phone number and leave a voice mail giving information as to name of individuals and location, and why you suspect drug activity: 972-547-5115.  You are not required to leave your name, nor will your number be traced. You can be sure a full time investigator with the sheriff department will check it out. 

Examples of  “red flags” is a contractor who never seems to have work, lives in a big fancy house, and always has new vehicles in his driveway.  Another example is the individual who works from his home, and never seems to leave.  Note this individual generally gets “daily” delivery of large FedEx packages.  Other sure give-a-ways that drug activity is present is automobiles constantly driving up to driveway, visiting with homeowner through their car window for a few minutes, and then leaving again.  It would not be unusual to see this activity happen four to five times on an hourly basis, continuously through the day.

 Additional note that running a “service business” (such as home repairs or services) of any kind out of a home address is strictly forbidden by the covenants of a HOA  in McKinney, Texas.  A business that lists their home as their business address is another sure “red flag.” Since we are in hard financial times, reward money seems attractive to many.  In this case the Sheriff’s Office can assign you a code word for your real name, and protect your real identity.  In these cases generally the one giving the tip, if the tip proves out, can collect $1,000 through Crime Stoppers.  Not bad pay for being a good citizen and being observant of these criminals. 

Another observation, generally the most up scaled communities are places drug dealers like to operate out of, not slums, as many believe.  Since these dealers have access to such large sums of money, generally they will buy another home, close to their own, for purposes of just storing their selling drug supply.  If you suspect an individual is a dealer, look for a home within a short distance of their actual home, that seems to never have any regular activity coming or going for a live in resident.  Signs that the home is a “storage facility” are all the front widows covered with aluminium foil wrap (fitted to the pane of each window), and a car with flat tires in the driveway, which is never moved.

It was a long day of preaching and answering many questions by the Master.
Toward the end of the day an ancient elder of the nearby village asked the
Master the following question.
” Master,”  he shouted above the multitude,
“Tell us of the Last Judgement.”
The Master replied,
” The Judgement Bench sits before the Gates of Heaven.
On this day Trillions of souls will stand before this bench.
The total of all the eternal souls that have been born and died in eternity.
The scales of judgement will be in the total hearts of all.
Each soul will stand before all in total recall of all the details,
of their lives on the physical earth.
No trespass will be hidden,
no hurt upon others forgotten,
but revealed to all,
to see, to feel within,
their own individual spirits.
The sincerity of one giving up themselves
to Jesus will also lay in the balance of judgement.
To those, that the scales of justice weigh
heavily against them,
the gates of hell will swallow them
for their last time to an eternity of suffering,
without the light of God before them.
To those, who died with repent on their lips,
to those who gave their lives to Christ in their lives,
with deeds of love and goodness,
to these,
the Gates will then open,
to an eternity of peace and joy.
So, it will be on that day,
that all will stand
before the Judgement Bench,”
so said the Master of my life,
on this day.
The Power comes forth.
It is the power of His Love for us.
All that one has to do,
is believe.
All one has to do is believe,
in the Power of His Love.
His Love is for all of us.
Get on your knees,
Thank God,
for the Power of His Love.
Joy will now be yours.
Your enemies are now dust.
Darkness is no longer your fate.
The Light of Eternity and Love,
is now yours.
On this day,
the Master revealed
His greatest gift to mankind.
This gift was rendered on a mountain of stone,
reflected on a setting sun,
to a multitude of many,
in one of the many lessons,
given to multitudes in those years. 
The question,
that came toward the end of that day
was, “ Master, what is the greatest gift,
that God gives to all of us?”  asked the young
man in the multitude of that day.
The Master replied,
“The greatest gift that my Father gives to all,
is the secret of Forgiveness.
In rendering forgiveness to ones self,
and also forgiveness of others,
does a sinner reveal,
the keys to heaven,
and the eternal Love of our Father.
Forgiveness assures the eternal love of the Father,
and being in the arms of His Love forever.”
so said the Master of my life,
on this day.
It was with a shock that I saw the passing of time,
upon your face today.
I have looked at you many times before,
without noticing the many lines,
and spots of age,
that now map your face.
It had taken many years,
for age to mark its passing.
On this day,
It seemed to have happened overnight.
The young face, I remembered, 
also was voided of the look of love,
that I remembered seeing in those eyes.
I felt a cold chill this day,
as you looked into my face,
and as if by some twist of time,
I really was not there.
Time can be so cruel in its passing.
Discovered lines of time on a face,
that was still loved by me,
and finding only the coldest of a north wind,
in response.
Ah Love,
and sweet memories,
where have you gone,
in this passing of time,
upon my dear ones’ face.  
Flickering candles at the doorway to eternity.
The time of our lives in this world,
seemly not worth noting in the scheme of the universe.
Yet, our God in his Love for us,
fills our lives with such joy,
in knowing Him.
Beyond the valley of tears,
Beyond the lost of love,
beyond the caverns of fear,
beyond the dark rooms of hell itself,
He has brought us to bath in His light of Love.
Lives of ticking seconds,
streaming in light years of
moving hours around a dying sun.
Should we not spend each day,
in good works in His glory, worship, and honor?
Only by His individual touch in the mircle of
our births,
can we understand this grand gift given to us.
A gift to be able to find our ways again,
in being rejoined again,
with the Master of our eternal fates.
A Pear Tree am I,
unchanged by the lost of a part of me.
I am the same,
nothing has changed,
there is just less of me.
Why do you stare a me,
as you pass?
Am I so different then before?
I still smell the air,
feel the sky,
and warm myself in the sun of day,
soak the rain of day,
amidst the storms that roll into my horizon.
I still dream of dreams,
yet to come,
for I am and still am,
the might Bradford Pear Tree of Club Lake Trail.
I was taller,
fuller, and prouder,
than I am now,
but still the Bradford Pear,
the tree you looked upon each day,
with such pride.
Have I changed so much from those days,
when you looked so lovingly at me?
The change came slowly over the years.
Worms chewed in the joy of my wood,
seeking the essence of me.
I grew,
but as each leaf fell,
I became closer to my death.
The death of cut wood and broken twigs,
laid upon a ground now unknown to me.
What changed me so quickly and without warning?
It was shortly after midnight,
the storm came.
Wind tearing at the very soul of me,
Wind ripping my inner part out,
to lay useless,
and with only partial life upon the ground.
I am still the same,
the Bradford Pear,
I live,
I breathe,
I sun,
even with fuller leaves,
than before.
Should you now love me less,
for not being as powerful,
and mighty as before?
I love you no less,
for you see,
I am, and will always be, 
your Bradford Pear Tree of Club Lake Trail. 
As I stand before the doorway of death,
let the last vision that I will hold,
be that of you.
Let my soaring soul be forever imprinted
with memories of you.
Let not my journey be far,
before at last,
I am in your arms again.
Let my lips be sealed in a kiss from you,
bearing witness,
to our eternity together.
Set aside your burden at my manger.
I have come to give My Love to you.
Side aside your fears,
put away your tears.
Have I not promised by my arrival,
eternal, everlasting joy to you.
Light beyond sight,
sound in tune with angels’ voices,
singing in My Love for you.
Come closer and bathe in my light.
Look into my eyes and see the innocence,
in the truth of My Love,
and care for you,
now and forever. 
Steely, the night shown against iced blackness,
with a white diamond star blazing in the heavens.
Hints of soft voices whispered in the wind.
The weary shepherds pushed forward on their staffs,
looking forward to the comfort of their tents.
Beyond the hills, the sky glowed.
A choir of voices was heard with a sweet clarity,
the sound of bells vibrated among the sound of horns.
The animals spooked, deaf to the commands of their masters.
The wind increased in its volume and strength.
The shepherds were filled with fear.
Light overshadowed the darkness,
during the midst of night.
Within the light formed,
the most beautiful soft,
white, and gold of human-like forms,
shining against the sky.
The shepherd’s breath stopped in their throats.
Filled with excitement and happiness beyond their capacity to describe,
their skin prickled.
Heavenly voices brought words to their ears;
words singing of kindness,
understanding,
peace,
and anticipation to these men of the field.
The voices told of a special child that would
unlock the gates of fear and bring eternal love,
to the future of the world.
This happened on a special night,
a long, long time ago. 

 

The Old McKinney Square is gone.
The place of adventure and discovery,
that I found in 1970,
as a young man.
My background was of one born in New York City.
I had no trinkets or heirlooms from my past.
Old decaying Brownstones in Harlem had no such things,
especially from the poor family of an iron and steel worker.
I discovered the joy of collecting antiques,
on the Old McKinney Square in those days.
The collecting became a passion for me,
as I called each antique a precious find.
There was a magic in those crowded,
dusty shelves, packed with hidden mystery.
Each shop owner, and each dealer,
became first name friends,
with a smile and greeting,
as I searched,
a part of each day. 
It was about 2001,
that my quests were no more,
for you see,
I ran out of space for those treasures. 
Today in another December in 2008,
added to my life,
I decided to again,
visit my Old McKinney Square.
The warm friendly faces,
that I once knew,
where gone into the dusty trail of time.
The crowded shelves of discovery were no more.
The store fronts were new,
Their new chic names in Gold letters on them.
The antiques were new,
made to look old.
They lacked a certain warmth,
and history in their shiny new look.
My heart filled with sadness,
for I then realized,
I too would soon be gone,
as the Old McKinney Square is gone,
never remembered,
but forgotten,
as all my sweet memories,
of joys past,
will also be gone,
into the eternal sunset.
This is a magical Christmas story from my past.
It was a new beginning for my life in 71,’
a new marriage and becoming the Step-Father
of three children was my accomplishment.
It was Christmas eve, 
just a few minutes before midnight.
We just got home from a trip to a family
gathering in Dallas.
It was cold with clear night skies,
as we began to hear the sound of sleigh bells
over our home.
We all stood outside the front door
of our home in amazement,
as we hear the bells from far away,
come closer overhead,
then pass over our house,
then on to the distance in sound.
We could not see anything overhead,
but we all knew that evening,
truly,  St. Nick and his sleigh,
had passed,
somehow,
over our home.

Losing a dear friend is always a very sad thing; having that lost happen during the Christmas season is especially sad.  To me, Sam Shields was a very special individual, and I will miss him very much.  Following is a link to his memorial site:  http://obit.baue.com/obitdisplay.html?id=613556&listing=Current

Sam was a beautiful man.
A man of presence,
standing six foot five,
at over two hundred and fifty pounds.
He had the gentle qualities of a Teddy Bear.
I never remember Sam being anything but,
warm, generous, with words of kindness,
on every occasion we were together.
If I could have had someone to pick,
as an older brother,
I would have picked Sam.
Sam died suddenly from a massive stroke.
The doctors said his life could have been saved,
but he would have been a total vegetable.
I know Sam would not have wanted that. 
Sam had been an engineer with Boeing
for forty-six years.
He never spoke of what kind of work he did.
He would laughingly say, “If I told you, I then
would have to kill you.”
I am going to miss Sam terribly.
They do not make men,
like him,
anymore.
 
It was our first Christmas together.
We both were eighteen,
with barely more,
than the clothes on our backs.
I was just out of basic training,
in the U.S. Air Force.
She had just graduated from high school,
and then wrote a bus to Savannah, Georgia,
to join me,
the love of her life.
We had rented a several room apartment,
on the second floor of an old Savannah home.
It was in a falling-down condition.
The gifts we shared were inexpensive,
but meant the world in their value,
and meaning to each of us.
She gave me a St. Christopher’s medal of Silver,
while I gave her a Catholic missal.
She wanted to become a Catholic like me,
prior to us getting married.
I took a picture of her opening her present.
The smile upon her face was beautiful.
It was a Christmas in 1960.
It will always be a Christmas,
I will always remember.
The lesson I learned,
that day was,
the love between us,
was truly,
the greatest gift,
we could have shared,
that Christmas. 
It was a year after I served
my four years in service,
that she wanted to start a family.
At the time,
I felt we were not quite ready.
One day, I came home to find our home,
completely empty of its furniture.
She had filed for a divorce.
I sometimes wonder,
if she thinks of me,
as I remember her.
I wonder too,
if she had all the children,
she wanted in her life.
If I could speak the right words of endearment,
would you rush to be at my side?
Have we not been seeking the same dream,
a dream yet unfounded in our time,
upon this world?
If I could speak the right words,
I would tell you how long I have been seeking you.
The space in my heart was never filled by others,
for they were not you,
my love.
If I could speak the right words,
they would tell you that I will immediately know,
it is you,
when you are before me.
The moment that our eyes will meet,
we will know,
we finally found each other.
If I could speak the right words of endearment,
they would tell you of the eternity that I have spent,
in seeking you.
A half soul,
a lost wanderer,
a knight without a grail,
have I been.
Complete my being.
Awaken at my side,
make us one,
never to be alone again,
for the eternity,
that is still before us.
I awoke this morning with a start.
I had no thought of her,
or dream of her for that matter,
in over forty-five years.
We were to met again, in the dream.
I was nervous and fearful in seeing her again.
Within the dream, I realized, she truly was my first love,
in discovering passion in my being with a woman.
I guess, I had blocked her from my mind,
all these years.
As I waited to see her again,
I recalled all those nights of long ago,
that sweating love making with her.
It was Summer, when we met.
Even with the air conditioning at full blast,
we both sweated profusely in love making. 
She was as tall as me, at six feet,
blond, blue-eyed with beautiful fair skin.
During the time we were together,
I could not believe that I was so blessed,
in being loved by a woman like that. 
I do not know what I did,
to lose her love for me.
I am sure,
I also blocked that from my mind.
In the dream,
we sat across from each other,
moving our lips,
but unable to form words,
at the sight of each other.
We knew.
We felt the surge of our old passions,
for each other.
There was nothing to forgive,
between us.
There was,
only the love to remember,
between the both of us.
It was such a great dream.
Loved with such passion,
is such a gift to us in our lives.
I awoke from the dream,
with tears in my eyes.    

As our economy continually slides downward, crime has a tendency to have an upward spiral.  The following suggestions are ways, that you can protect yourself from being another crime victim in the near future.  

…………………………………………………………………………………

Assuming that such things will never happen to you, is truly fool hardy on your part.  Let us begin by assessing your home environment.  Do you have a good security system in your home?  When I say good, I am not suggesting that the “nothing down cost” program of one motion detector in a home at thirty dollars a month is the answer to home security.  Generally companies that do these form of programs with “two key pads etc.” do their customers an injustice by providing totally inadequate security protection. 

Considering shopping for a state certified installer in security systems, that cover all aspects of home security.  A huge qualifier to finding the right individual/company is to ask this simple question.  Do you have the equipment to also a cellular backup system in the event that my phone lines are cut?  If they start out with how only two percent of alarm systems have that option, and how expensive they are, blown them off the phone.  Generally, monthly fees for such back up is as little as fifteen dollars a month, with the actual transmitting equipment costing under two hundred dollars. 

A good rule of thumb is the average cost for top quality and adequate coverage is about a hundred dollars a square foot for the typical home.  In many cases, the installer makes their money in the cost difference to them and the customer in the monthly monitoring fees, generally around thirty dollars a month (payed quarterly).  The level of equipment would include motion sensors (360 coverage), glass breaks and shock sensors.  For a small extra fee, one can also get separate panic buttons that wirelessly connect to the main alarm system.  

Next, is your garage full to the brim with storage items, leaving no room for your cars?  Thus leaving your vehicles parked each day, outside of your home?  Advantage to thieves, easy pickings on break-ins for CD players, preyed from the center console, cell phones, check books, guns in glove boxes, insurance cards and papers. Don’t forget the fun of clean up on the broken glass and it banging around in the door frames, forever. Clean out your garage and always park your car(s) in your garage.  Another advantage to doing this: It does not assist thieves in determining your “at home” schedule. 

Another factor in protecting one’s home is, “Show off your home from the Inside-In, and not from the Outside-In.”  Many homeower’s from the under 35 generation think it is neat to show off the contents of their home to outsiders driving by their homes.  This is done by leaving curtains open, and if they have shades, also leaving them up.  This is done both day and night in these displays of pocessions and is very stupid on the part of homeowners.  It is like having a ”Billboard” saying, “See what I have…please steal it from me.”  Protect your home from eyes that might be those of thieves by having shades or curtains that does not reveal the contents of your home to public view.

Consider getting a Concealed Handgun License.  If you are afraid of guns, or have no  problem watching a criminal rape your wife and daughter in the process of a robbery, yes by all means continue to live in your dream world.  We can only wish that our stocks would have increased like the prices of handguns in the last year.  Where the average handgun by a good manufacturer use to be under two hundred dollars, that same handgun in a revolver today is between five and six hundred dollars….a good semi-automatic is now over a thousand dollars. 

Nothing brings more peace to a citizen, in knowing they can stop a criminal dead with five rounds in their upper body in order to protect their life, as well as that of their families.  Learn to use a gun.  Get a concealed license and be totally legal in having a gun handy in the glove box of your car, and an accessible location in your home.  A closing statement to this post is NEVER but NEVER answer your door to a stranger.  Since daylight robberies are on the increase with residents being held hostage, assume the worse, when someone is at your door.  Consider NOT EVEN responding with a “Who is it?” In many cases, knowing someone is home, the criminal would just kick the door in to rape you, hurt you and take you hostage.

If you are finding some of this information of benefit, let me know via the WordPress program, and I will continue with other suggestions that will make 2009 a much safer year for you and your family.  As more, and more American citizens take this approach to self-protection and personal safety in this country, more of these criminals will decide to attempt their crimes in countries outside of the U.S.  The signs outside our shores should say, “The U.S. is not a Safe Haven for Criminals.”

I awoke this morning,
with the warmth, taste, and smell of my dreams,
still lingering upon my body.
My lips were still moving in formed words,
of forgiveness, on my part,
with a request for forgiveness of those,
whose warmth I felt upon me.
I awoke with a joy,
and a sadness,
beyond words to describe.
I felt the need to tell of this dream,
this past night.
It was a dream of forgiveness,
forgiveness of the past.
A rejoining of old loves,
long gone from today,
but not forgotten.
The joy of reuniting was pure,
and without hurt.
The embraces were real.
The words of happiness real.
There was no bitterness,
other than the sweetness of memories from the past.
We had long forgiven each other,
for our past hurts.
Hurts rendered,
by our own lacking of thought.
The joy of the moment,
was all that was important.
I fought to hold on to those moments.
I did not want to let them go.
Moments of love, happiness,
revisited from days past.
Is this what love and happiness is all about,
in its reincarnation from the past?
Is this what the past-over in death,
to another life, is all about?
A new life with forgiveness,
behind us, and only joy before us?
If it is so, then I face death with hope and joy.
No longer will I have,
the dark fear that use to follow me.
Thank you Lord,
for giving me insight this day,
from the visits of my night.
I face this new day,
seeking new signs,
of my Lord’s Love for me. 
    
At times, it would be nice,
to have a pair of magic red shoes.
Just clicking them together three times,
would do the trick.
Suddenly, I would be transported,
to wherever my mind of memory,
would wish to go.
At this very moment,
I could easily think of a dozen places,
I would love to be at this moment.
Each time frame,
would place me at a time and place,
where I felt greatly loved.
Where there was a skip in my step,
and a constant grin on my face.
I can easily bring to mind,
scenes of such places in my past.
Skipping through a mall with her,
like a school child.
Dancing with her,
for the first time,
with my arm around her waist. 
Ah yes, then their were those
first kisses, always soft, always remembered,
always joyful in the way they went to my toes.
Truthly knowing what I know now,
would I have taken more time,
to savor every moment then,
in remembering every detail,
of the places of my youth,
where my magic red shoes,
would have taken my heart.  

internationalpoet-1281I have a dream.  It is a “Homeless Shelter” in Henderson County, Texas.  Is this an impossible dream?  more to follow……..

“Haven of Hope” copyright 2009 John J. Rigo, upcoming poetry book “Passion Amidst Apathy”

It can be a place of hope.
A shelter of caring love,
and future dreams.
A second chance for many,
and a third chance for others.
A shelter beyond just protection,
against rain, wind, heat and cold.
A complex overcoming the appearance of lost hope.
Warm beds, class rooms and a library at its core,
offering new lifetime friendships in a common bond.
A destination that never closes a door to those who leave.
Helping hands with hearts exposed,
in words and deeds rendered,
to those, who were without hope.
Are we not as great,
as the least among us?
A new start for children,
for beatened mothers,
for our lost warriors,
returning from war.
A light burning ever so brightly,
in showing all who come,
that love, is not only just a word.
The “Haven of Hope,”
a diamond in our mist,
shining ever so brightly.
It was a cold black cloud that overcame me.
An unknown evil  sucked the very air from the room.
I wanted to scream, but could not.
I felt waves of tears within the folds of my body.
A tightness in my throat, I could not explain.
A flood of tears within my being, being held back,
from some inner strength of will.
I realized my best friend was no longer.
A heap of once shiny metal on a field of battle,
was now the very heart and soul of me.
Destroyed beyond any possible flashes of laughter.
Destroyed at the very core of me,
was this once shining light.
When I saw the truth, now fully realized in its
cutting reality, there is no pain that could be greater.
My love is no more.
A valley of tears lies before me.
Was there any way to remove this spear,
that now cuts deeply into the very soul of my spirit.
I cryed to the heavens,
but was not heard.
Please God,  I moaned,
“Remove this torment from me.”
This deep sadness,
that now drapes my body.
Drapes the light of each,
of my future days.
“Spare me this torment
dear God,”was my final cry. 
There is something wonderous about a hug.
It is a way of saying,”you are special to me.”
A step beyond the boundries of formal convention.
The assurance of a heart touching a heart.
A touch of comfort to calm a grieving heart.  
A cheek touching a cheek,
with a kiss of greeting.
Whether a man to man,
or woman to woman,
or man to woman,
or woman to man,
there are no limits to showing
our love for another.
We are all souls in His creation,
with an eternal bond between us all.
The hug is the sign of our sisterhood and brotherhood.
Let it not become forgotten in your life,
it precious honey to the wounds of this life,
forever giving,
forever loving,
in the wonder,
of love,
to all of us. 

I wanted to take time to render and “Thank You” and appreciation for all of you that visted my site yesterday.  It was an awesome day with 1,670 hits recorded.  We are almost upon ten thousand hits for the site, since its inception the latter part  of last year.  It is my hope and wish that my spiritual poetry will assist those who look into my site; as well as my posted Column posts by myself and my guest commentators, assist in helping make our communities, a better place to live.   

The author and publisher of this blog site with WordPress is seeking a volunteer formatter to assist in doing such for a third non profit poetry book to be published in the Spring.  The formatting involves approximately forty poems that will be published through the lulu program, as the author’s previously other two published poetry books. 

All profit from these books serve the “homeless cause” in the State of Texas.  The only compensation offered for such work will be full credit in the first pages of this published book.  There will be no proofing of any kind involved, since these are works of poetry. 

The body of work for this project can be found on the WordPress site: www.passionamidstapathy.wordpress.com.  The author can be reached directly to his home and PDA address at: internationalpoet@msn.com with a brief bio and qualifications of submitted interested parties.  

I want to be IN LOVE again.
I know you love me,
and I love you.
I miss being IN LOVE,
that mysterious, wonderful feeling of being IN LOVE.
That feeling that one has,
when the one they love walks into a room.
The way the background fades,
and all you can see,
is them.
I miss the way my body felt when I was touched.
The way that my breath was hard to catch after kissing.
I miss those soul kisses that touched the very core of me.
I miss the way electricity went down my body when I was dancing with you. 
This was how I felt when I was IN LOVE.
I want to be,
IN LOVE again.

 

The Miracle Awaits

The Miracle Awaits

Within each of our lives a miracle awaits to be revealed. We are truly miracles in ourselves.  In creating us God made us perfect in His Image.  In serving others in the Love of His Name,  does the miracle of His creation,  reveal itself to us. So on this day, does my journey begin.

 

 

 

 

 
 

Book I of the Amidst SeriesBook II of the Amidst Series  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the current economy, many churches in the lake area are experiencing a huge drop in weekly collections.  Many members of these churches are faced with cutting back on entertainment for the family or continuing with regular donations to their churches in the area.  Hence the struggle of many churches  to met the monthly salaries of their pastor, church personnel,  and overall church expenses.  Many of these churches need a spiritual charge to regain the financial support of their church members.  Mr. Rigo offers that opportunity to any church in the area, regardless of the denomination, at no costs or fees.

Cedar Creek Resident

Cedar Creek Resident

A wonderful opportunity presents itself for churches in the Cedar Creek Lake area of East Texas.  As of two years ago, an internationally recognized poet, and Texas Commentator has made the Cedar Creek Lake area his second home.  For additional background information on John J. Rigo’s background and Bio refer to sections above on “A Non-profit Opportunity, Bio of a Texas Columnist” or “Book Ordering Information.” 

That opportunity is represented in a fifteen to twenty minute presentation of Mr. Rigo’s poetry work, coupled with a presentation dealing with having the right attitude in dealing with “Financial difficult times,” as well as methods and mind-sets to overcome depression in regards to the downturn in our economy. 

Mr. Rigo’s main focus in his personal ministry is assisting the “homeless” of the Cedar Creek Lake area of Texas.  Several counties in the Cedar Creek Lake area are considered some of the poorest counties in the state of Texas.  Through the purchase of his non-profit poetry books, which can be ordered off the web, it is Mr. Rigo’s goal to see one day, a first-class homeless shelter built for the Cedar Creek Area.  Currently all profits from his published poetry books go to support the cause of “homelessness” for the state of Texas. 

Generally, Mr. Rigo is available in the lake area from Thursday afternoon through Monday.  In the event you wish a preview of his work or just wish to reserve a Sunday service for his presentation at no cost, you may contact him via his PDA e-address at: internationalpoet@msn.com  Please give your contact info such as name, church affliation and contact phone number. 

There are times
that reaching back in our memories,
is the only way we can attempt
to rediscover happiness in our present lives.
As hard as we try
those memories remain swirling mists,
from the times of our fleeing youth,
never felt again,
nor tasted.
We cry out in an agony of painful want,
but find no release.
Could this place in our lives,
be but a preview
of an unending terrible hell?
We are only left with an undisclosed  fear,
that possibly a heaven does not exist,
but is a creation of imagination,
out of our own fears. 
“Is this all there is?” we whisper,
in a silent room in our minds.
Only by our prayers
to our Lord,
prior to our earthly deaths,
will we find joys beyond the ones,
we have experienced in this world.
We will find glorious joys in another world,
by the promises of His Word,
that will be before us. 
Upon that moment,
let what was my blinded eyes,
in the things of temporary joys in this world,
be opended again,
to the eternal glory of His Name.

A McKinney Texas Columnist

A McKinney Texas Columnist

The warrior king looked down upon the trembling servant with these words, “How am I to trust the wisdom of your king, who sends you with this message, if he hides his real name behind a false one?”  He went on further in his discourse by saying, “Does your king lack courage.  Does he not have the backbone of a man or is he really a woman hiding behind a man’s name who claims to be a king?”  The king then had his soldiers remove the servant from his presence.  The servant’s head was cut off before the sun set upon that day.

 

Each day I am constantly amazed by the many web sites and forum boards that carry postings of individuals who use cover names out of fear instead of their own real names.  How can one take any of these postings seriously when the posters hide behind a mask?  For all we know, it can be a simple program on a computer somewhere generating all  these postings across the net in an attempt to control public opinion.

If I could create the perfect poem,
my poem would remove sorrow from the world,
bring smiles where there were tears,
mend broken hearts and return love again,
replace all loneliness with the Joy of God’s Love,
friends would never be lost again,
but be eternal in their friendships with us,
each day would start with the songs of birds,
and each night would end with the sighs of night,
every soul would find God,
and never again be separated from His Love,
every kiss would be with true love,
and never of betrayal,
the Devil would be finally destroyed by God,
and we would all reign in Paradise in the mist of joy,
……………………..forever.

 

It was an open house of a new resident in the community.
I sat on table near a corner of the room,
a kind of observation post of those coming into the room.
There you stood looking at me from afar.
There was a blackberry in your hand texting someone.
You came and sat next to me.
You asked me if the room seemed warm.
You told me your hands were sweating.
I explained that I got a kind of butterflies when I met new people.
I learned through disciple long ago to overcome being uncomfortable.
Forty years in sales changes many things about an individual.
You could not be more than eighteen,
brown hair and the deepest of brown eyes.
You kept looking a me strangely,
like you had always knew me.
A memory came to my mind.
It was my childhood bride of eighteen.
You looked very much like her.
Her eyes were also Brown. 
I remembered how I felt about her.
I loved her in a special deep way.
There is something about a first love,
that always makes it special in memories through life.
I saw her in you,
the hair,
the eyes,
the way you smiled at me.
We talked of college and your first year.
The difficulties you were having with some of your studies.
You said goodby in a formal way and left.
It was like you leaving again.
I think of you often and those early days
in my life that we shared as two lost children together.
There always will be something special about you,
and those days in my mind,
many years ago.
Take care my love,
wherever you may be this day.
Remember that I still think of you,
and yes in my way,
yes, I still love you.
My mind still does not accept they are gone from this world.
I find myself, many a time reaching for a phone,
to call them.
It is a select group,
these souls that were a part of my life.
Some are friends,
that cannot ever be replaced,
in the deep meaning of their unselfish love of me.
Others, are my parents who I felt I never really knew as people.
There was the apple of my eye,
my step-daughter of many years.
Truly the only daughter,
I ever knew in my life.
There were others,
that I would have liked to have known better,
they were gone,
without any notice from my life.
At times, I find them in my thoughts,
mind speaking with them about different things,
reaching and seeking unresponsive council  from now,
an unfamilar place in my heart.
I know they are not really gone,
they are just in a different place than me,
a place that beckons me as my own death comes closer each day.
You see, I never have gotten comfortable with Death.
So, my dear friends,
my dearest of loved ones,
make a place for me,
where again we can laugh and love,
and talk about all that is around us each day,
of the eternity before us. 
Sometimes it pays to look back on our lives.
In so doing, we can then take time to count our blessings.
Today, after a run to our local post office,
I decided to detour to my old home within
a few miles of my completed task.
The house, an old frame was terribly run down.
It was built in the early 1900’s.
I remember the day well,
moving into that house that we freshly painted,
as a newly married young man of twenty-eight.
With my new bride came three step-children,
ages six, eight and going on ten; two boys and a girl.
I had no previous experience as a Father.
My new wife was a secretary for a local construction company,
while I had just started work for a local Ford dealership in town,
as a salesman.
My average paycheck in 1970 was under four hundred a month.
The house was just off College street in McKinney, Texas.
We financed $6,5oo on the purchase of that home.
Five people in a three, very small bedroom room with the grand total, of one bathroom.
Since those days, and our divorce almost fourteen years latter,
shortly after the graduation of my step-daughter from Baylor College with a Master’s degree in Music, much water, has passed
under that olde’ bridge.
Today, that step-daughter is dead, killed by a hit and run driver.
The oldest boy I never did hear from again, after his graduation from North Texas.
As to the youngest one, who today, should be in his mid forties,
perhaps is currently in Huntsville prison.
Today, as a senior, I now look at my bride of almost twenty years, grow more beautiful in my eyes each day.
I count each day, the many blessings that have come to me,
since those days, almost forty years ago,  in the early seventies.
I am reminded today, in a bill that came in the mail today,
that the monthly bill to keep the lawn mowed at my second home on the lake, is more than the commissions I drew as a car salesman back in those days.
God is great, and my blessings beyond every dream, 
I have ever held.
Thank you Lord, for this day, and the life you have rendered me, after I finally gave my life to you,
almost thirty years ago.  
The shining armour of light deflected evil this day.
Evil looked upon itself and reeled back in disgust of its own image.
The blade of right was swift and unseen by the evil ghost.
Spilled upon the dark mirrored floor was Evil’s own horror.
Rivers of corruption flowed from Evil’s heart,
To a place of darkness,
only known to him.
Where light will never enter,
and the pain of lonilness,
will forever be enduring.
Good has won this day.
Forever gaining strength,
to do battle,
another day.
 
I am reminded of the child’s chant,
“Sticks and stones will hurt my bones,
but words will never harm me.”
One should not react in passion to pieces of trash
hiding behind a site name on the Internet.
Those who post slanderous words against another
have no spine.
A crawling snake is their closest ally.
True suffering, was demonstrated by our Lord,
Jesus Christ,
as he was beatened and crucified as a criminal.
Lord, protect me and bless me,
as I worship and adore your name
through eternity.
 

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