The Age of Miracles

The age of miracles looms upon us
Offering promise to a hope starved stock
Acts of renewal of faith scattered near and wide
Happen second to minute by the clock

Golden days of salvation stand in waiting
The hour for commitment is at hand
Celebrate the rise of fulfilment and pride
Bombs of compassion are ours to comand

Relive the hour of creation
Its essence is part of the soul
Go deep to a point of raw connection
Forever immortal, creative and bold

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realy real

touch

life sign

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gods &angels

inner beauty

Home for the Holidaze

The moment my body hit the bed I knew a point of action had been attained. I lept back up to my feet, grabbed the box of socks that had been taken from me and was determined to not let go. A battle ensued from the bedroom to the hallway where, after being pushed repeatedly I took a hugging hold of his leg and just refused to let go. I screamed a mantra without end, "Zenny stop! I love you, stop!" My contact with his leg had him off balance causing him to fall crashing into two framed photos on the wall. I held on as we thrashed into the den. He fell into the small grandfather clock at the corner of the living room with a second crash. I think it was at this point that I discovered Mom prying me loose as I was relentless in maintaining a grip of that right leg. I wondered what Mom must be thinking as her two adult sons waged war from room to room in her house. Now free of my leg hold, I lay on the den floor sobbing for what seemed like just a few moments. Then, remembering that it was Mom who was in danger and the reason I was having this altercation I jumped up to pick up the broken mess we'd made. Oddly, Zenny was quick to then do the same. He lunged at the large bits of glass and frame and wood pieces scooping them up without care and taking them in two trips to the trash bins outside. I continued my stalking of his every move. Watching for another outburst of rage. After he hurried to put away all evidence of any indescrecsion, Zen finished his dressing by putting on socks, shoes, and hat all the while maintaining a verbal battle with Mom. I watched him each second as he then stormed through the front door, up the hill, and down the street still in a vocal tyrate. Cathargic is the feeling that pervades me after all this expended energy. I was instantly taken back to the unspoken habit we had as kids in south Georgia of somehow getting into a fight every Sunday after church.

Discover You Again

It’s been so long since I’ve seen you
I must know how you’ve been
I feel I should get to know you
We’re not the same as we were way back when

I have so many questions
All to discover who you are
I’m enraptured and torn apart
By this involvement from afar
I’m tethered and attracted
To the soothing sexy voice
The urges that it conjures
Leave me weak without a choice
Imagine if you will a time
That brings us close enough to touch
The feel of fingers upon flesh
Sensations warming mild to much
Blinding is the image
Yet I cannot help but stare
Your mystic power grace and beauty
Are proof that love is worth the dare
So within this living minute
When I look into your eyes
Go well, live strong and loving
Kind and gentle, calm and wise.

Life Goes On

Reveiwing the posts of the last few weeks its seems there's a lot about war and death. That's what's happening in my life right now. My friend D is somewhere in Iraq doing God knows what. My friend M lost his father two days ago. Two of my co-workers lost father (last week) and father-in-law (today). Death is a constant and it's everywhere. I'm not complaining. As amazing as it seems to me I feel quite liberated since the death of my own father last month. I am more observant in my day to day activities. I seem to be accomplishing lots of tasks and new beginnings feel endless all around me. It's my Dad, I'm sure, letting me know that life is good and that there is much to live for. Here's what I've learned since his passing.It's written in the form of advise to M who is quite frazzled after losting his Dad.

You're going to need an extra helping of concentrated strength
To help with all the stuff to be done for this time and through it's length
Take a look at all the loved ones gathering around you, hold them near
They are the essence of what your father was about, all that's dear
Don't forget that still in you is found the proof that he was here
And amongst the accolades and tears to come
the thought of him will be cause for great cheer

For My Father

A prayer a blessing a time to console
A life before us to admire and behold
A vigil of love amid nurturing care
We gather this moment to bond and to share
All that we've garnered and brought to the now
It lifts us and helps in the solace somehow
Let's hold fast to family and tell every friend
The joy of fine living lasts well past its end


Henry Edward Brown 1934-2006

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The Tale of the Magi Three

In a forest wild with tangled greens
Grown over centuries of myth and seclusion
Stand high walls of heavy broken stone
Firmly at guard against intrusion

Looming large upon a hill
Dark and daunting ever still
Its haunting charm a fearful chill
Surging in waves that spook the will

As darkness takes this Hallow's Eve
Here be told what makes men grieve
A tale of the wondrous Magi Three
Such lives as these there will ner again be

With holy magic great and grand
They ruled a vast, rich, and diverse land
Their eyes were clear their course was just
Each action they took was done in trust

The nation of folk were quick to praise
Knowing the source of its contented days
Each man was given his due and his way
Each lady was lauded with love for her say

Every farmer’s bounty was vital and green
Every artist's work was valued and seen
To revel in growth and prosperity
Was due to the rule of the Magi Three

Mosos, Atos, and Namos since days of youth
Were chosen to carry a godly light
Their way was joyous, far from uncouth
Until an evil jealousy turned day into night

Time has since then clouded the scorn
Which passed between the Magi Three
But history decrees after this one Hallow's Eve
Bright friends they would never again be

As chaos took hold the castle would roar
Each time with high drama when ripped to the core
Poisonous thoughts and bitter spells
All acts aimed at deeds which propel

So then with condemnation
Scorn and vicious rage
Thus was the start
Of The Hapless Hopeless Age

For one hundred years the land lay in waste
Sadness and despair in each and every place
Spreading a tale of dark disgrace
Such as no remorse can ever replace

Legend tells that within this solemn domain
Still dwells the last of the Magi Three
Imortally bound bewitched and profane
A mysterious presence crying out to be free

Abiding yet in shadowed solitary ways
With an unhealed scar upon his face
Long since past the mystic filled days
Doomed to wander this noble space

All who seek to discover him there
Behind the gray fortress walls
Are doomed to remain within his lair
Listen closely- you'll hear their grim calls.

Life in Wartime

Its possible to watch the warring nations live! Everyday!
It seems the movers and shakers fashioned it this way
The ultimate reality TV is another push button choice
Our view is broadcast unendingly we need never use our voice

The speakers of truth must now grow in number and strength
Gatherings of bright minds must build breadth and length
As images of pain and displeasure appear and reappear
Paths leading to reason must become evermore clear

Time to remove the lock and throw open the gate
We must be the ones to determine our own fate
When the moment comes to choose compassion or hate
Pray the decision to love never comes too late

This latest war has become a war of information waged by religious and capitalist power cells with the people of the world as the ultimate prize to the victor. Every person on the planet is engaged in this very public war on some level, directly or indirectly. It is gorged with battles being fought in the minds of all the people. Among the weapons are video and audio, sight and sound, as well as the weapons that physically kill and maim. We are challenged by these actions to seek out the truth, to mentally and physically take actions of our own to resist bombardment of media bytes and images that are themselves the weapons of mass destruction. If we do not we are easy prey to the barrage of vital updates, reports, news, opinions and deeds. Upon the field of play are the greatest and smallest nations, the foolish and the learned. The entire world has a live feed to all the action. It is an information war like no other.

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golden

The Flight of the Dove

Our finest day was
Our darkest hour
We knew little
Of our hidden power
To unite with conviction
In all that we’ve done
A power as vital as the son who
Taught us to give and live as one

We know this now
We see it as true
It flows in our veins
It propels what we do
It is goodness that guides us
And encourage it we must
For in doing so shall all
Our hope we entrust to
A future of bountiful
Spiritual Love
Out of ashes and smoke
Comes the flight of the dove