When the events around me begin to become unmanageable & confusing, at that EXCACT moment, the knowledge that God has given me exactly I wanted. Control over every second, every person and everything I desire, beams as a light through my soul. That's how much He loves us. ( Pt.1)
However, I have a natural way of creating great chaos in about ten minutes. It is only when I surrender All to Him, that peace and comfort swell within my spirit. Faithful is His Supernatural Love and Kindness for his children. ( Pt.2)
JD 07, 06-2010
To live by moral standards to do right by thy neighbor and not lessen them by doing harm, is our ever vigilant cause. To work, not steal food, money, hope, lives. Humble when false glory honors self. Honest when lying would expose fallibility. Seek forgiveness when others we hurt by word or deed. Forgive when vengeance burns within. Love unconditional as our Lord so loves. Let the morrow bring light to your path.
JD 14, 06-2010
In a world of fury and sound, where all about chaos surrounds
We run in circles of endless chase, our lives we spend in perpetual haste.
The road to no where is littered with dreams, each a broken heart and left to bleed.
Walk along this journey with care, for every step finds a fallen brother there.
Everything make so much sense now! I think I have 3-D-HD-Double-D-ADHA. My attention span is rather short, and I wander a bit in the mind. But, when I do focus, Everything is crystal clear, very large, and staring me in the face. Is there a pill for this?
Ever have one of those days when you just want to stop the world, get off, and walk to your friends house and play for a while?? Only to look around and find out you’re not in Kansas any more? And where the hell is Toto? He was just here five minutes ago. You’re sure because you can still smell the poop on your shoes. Oops, that ain’t Toto!!
If you’ll entertain the thought of hanging on with me for a short trip, I give my word that this essay won’t slip into something to sappy, overly poetic, or flowery. It may however, run the risk of chasing down the rabbit hole of occasional weirdness.
We’ve established we’re not in Kansas any more. So.. The question begs, where the *%@$ are we?? Well, you are there, and I am here. Clear enough!?!? Not for me. Somewhere along the way we have come to the place in our society where we have replaced good-old-in-your-face conversations with the dreaded inter-face-IM-email. The phone still works, but that’s become to personal. This means that one cannot just go and see that friend, look into their eyes, feel that warmth, or touch one who may need the softness of a human hand. Everyone needs to remember what a touch feels like. When we deny society of that, we are responsible for the monster’s we create. I’m not going to get into the spitting match about technology. It’s here. It’s great. We use it. That’s a discussion for another time.
Yet you may see how one can ponder just how easy it is to get disconnected, and then stay that way. What is easier, to write upon this screen, or drive 30 miles and hug a friend? To tap out a note in our sweat pants, or call someone from the dark ages who may need to hear they are loved, forgiven, not forgotten, needed, or at least validated as a person whom you knew for so many years??? There is no blame, no guilt. No fingers being pointed. If so, then it is I who assumes that burden, for this is my chosen profession. I use words to connect and convey. It’s just the way it is. This is the world our generation has shaped and built. (Well, not I, I just play guitar really loud.)
There comes a point in every persons life when this, is just not enough. Where you are in this process is unknown. Perhaps today, perhaps next year. You will know that point when you have to have what’s behind the screen. What’s beyond the keyboard.
Yes, all have grown and moved away. All have families, jobs, responsibilities.
Responsibilities. That’s a funny word. Coming from a guy who was dared to wear nothing under his graduation gown but a smile and socks. From a guy who went to Meijer’s in nothing more then a purple bath robe, black army boots, and a smile. (You gotta see the video.)
Where was I?
Sometimes I just want to be around real, breathing, living, drinking, smelly (yes), and laughing people. Although I can see photos and read thoughts, the internet just cannot replace the soul I once knew. I am missing something most humans desire, contact with intelligent life. (It’s a sin to lie. I’d like contact with anyone I could understand. Intelligence would just get in the way)
Recently I have received a lot of notes from people replying to some of my postings. I am grateful, and deeply humbled by your comments. First, that you would actually read them, ( as this is why a writer writes). Second, that you would actually remember me or care enough to comment. I was not part of any big group in my school. Not a stand out guy. Just one among many trying to find my way. Yet now it is almost a Half Century Later. And collectively we stand atop the mount of midlife, with our days numbered greater behind us then before us.
Suddenly voices from the past come and offer words so kind. People whom I barely knew, some whom I looked up to, others who took my heart, and some who surly didn’t know I even lived, have taken time to read and report upon my work.
That one person has read one line of anything I have written, I consider my gift to have been given. As everyone of you have given so freely of the gifts you have received.( I knew I’d find my way back eventually, Told ya’ we weren’t in Kalkaska any more.) This essay is about you.
An editor gave me great advise, once. Write to YOUR audience. Well kids, that’s you. See, You and I are not that much different. I’m a forty-seven y/o, hair thinning, mustache and beard, gold earring and lamb skin hat wearing, guitar playing man. Today I want to speak to all my friends from K.H.S., FMB, FB, Internet,. And, any family members that may stop by.
From each of you I have received more then I can possibly express, and you have my lasting gratitude. I ponder the wonder of life’s mysteries, and the mystical journey we have taken to get where here today. Names, Faces, Voices, Places, Sights, Sounds, and Textures create a vision of time never ending. In this vision I see my friends, my family, all doing exactly what they were meant to do. For Jesus said “ To whom much is given, much is expected.” And I see how greatly you have been blessed. Each of you speak of your family. Your friends. Your work.
Hobbies. You post photos of children smiling. Spouses Loving. Life happening. Life living to it’s fullest. Each of you have a received a gift, perhaps multitude of gifts, and by display, before God, you’ve shown how these gifts have impacted the world in such a way that it has changed the very face of the planet we inhabit. ( to bring one smile to one face, wipe away one tear, pleases God.)
I could write for days. Words upon words. We both know that would serve no end, and no meaning would come. It’s true that a nasty disease is taking my days, If I talk of it I’m a whiner, complainer. If not, then I am just stuck up. I choose to remain silent because this is for me and my wife and God and I to talk about. Cool??? Perhaps down this rabbit hole of ripened memories and aged thoughts, I found away to convey a message of hope. Of desire to reach out and touch someone.
Because I believe that each and everyone of you are extremely important, indispensable, irreplaceable, unique, created by God to be who, and what, you are. Maybe you’ll never believe that I’m a writer, or musician, but my brother, my sister, I believe that you are the Greatest, Best, Most wonderful and talented, and may I add, Loving, Persons I have had the pleasure of knowing.
This is not the end. But the beginning of our lives. From here we choose whether to interface, or spend a moment and get in-their-face.
JD 17, 03-2010
A Northwest wind spills over the Lake at just over Six Knots‘.
Cooling the air that sails within to just above Forty- Five degrees Fahrenheit.
The waves roll formlessly upon one another, each assuming the identity of the one before.
A reflection peers back questionably, as if it’s identity is folded in with and washed away with the waves.
A gust suddenly arises, twisting the unseen forces in divergent directions.
Waves begin to rise and swell, individual identity is gone, as the undulation of the surf
Becomes one with the wind. No longer apart, each wave surges into the other, and cascades
Onto the shore with a thundering roar. Foam and spray fill the morning air, chilling everything it touches.
The reflection once viewed lay now along the shore, shattered into a thousands places among the
Stones and driftwood. As our vision of ourselves constantly changing, so do the perceptions of others
When they look on from without.
Who are we today? Right now? Would a friend from long ago, recognize the creation we’ve become?
Are we still that of God’s design, or one created of another’s own vision, one that shifts as a morning shadow across an early spring valley?
Like the waves that surge and sway at my feet, the ripples that continue within each of us as we adapt to whatever or whoever is near, will forever alter our true form.
The waves will return to a place of stillness, and be not harmed winds affect. Yet as we constantly shift and
Change to fit every occasion, bits and pieces of ourselves are left upon the rocky shores, and damaged coastline that is our soul.
Be not afraid, for thou art perfectly, and wonderfully made, So it was in the beginning, now until
The end. Every step we took along this road, has brought us toward this glittered edged.
Oceans swell and Eagles soar, life echo’s from our souls constant roar.
Be the one you know you are, whom you always wanted to be.
Be the friend you need from me, and love will come when you seek,
This my word, you have of me.
I do not depart the water yet, with the sun beginning to set.
I’ll take my time and count the waves, till darkness fills the sky.
I sit here in the cold and spray, feeling the chill upon my face.
I came with something my heart to say, and now I must lay this in place.
Mine is not to Preach nor Teach. But to express and experience, a feeling or emotion.
You do not have to read this work. Nor take from it anything at all.
This is an expression of my life’s trials.
A few lessons came my way, thought I’d give freely those that cost the most.
There are ten things I’ve learned about knowing, and treating others.
( It works for taking care of you, too. )
Acceptance. Love. Appreciation. Approval. Connection.
Comfort. Encouragement
Respect. Protection. Support.
JD. 22, 03-2010.
Within all the pendulum of life moves in a cadence of perpetual motion.
Rhythmic, ceaseless, oscillations reverberate unabated unto our mortal conclusion.
Abiding innermost among all, the relentless meter of moments counting away.
Time, Fears no man. Man, fear only the ‘morrow which stole his yesterday.
I am a sojourner seeking solace, in a place not yet my home.
Where the colors of our dreams mix with the hues
Of others, infused by passion and conceived in desire. We live our lives in the
Imagination, captured by the visions that dance behind our eyes.
Off’ times we lie athwart of lines between self, and the perception there of.
Knowing, living in the truth , must give one pause.
Who we are, whom we pretend or are presumed to be, cannot be dismissed.
Whether to be true unto thy self, or disloyally unto Friend.
Daily I must search my heart. Recheck my intentions, Humble my motivations.
So gentle the sloop rolls down into Self, so lofty the hill rises to reach others.
Two roads diverge in the wood, which choose thee this day.
Look up, into the Highlands, Where Heaven meets in a thousand clouds.
Stretch forth thy hands unto Thy Glory, Reach beyond horizons’ shadow.
Step onto the path of Truth and Beauty. Walk along the walls of Freedom.
Stride In the spirit of love, joy, peace patience, kindness, goodness,
Faithfulness, gentleness.
The morrow waits your choice. It’s unavailing of your colors.
Give pause before you step foot to earth, prepare your heart for pure air
among summits seldom seen. For only when the self begins to rise to the occasion
And admiration of his brother, will he first feel the shine of the Son
breaking through the haze. Fear not young one, for I am there beside you.
The Mountains have I claimed number among the stones, The heights which
I’ve Fallen still ach within my bones. Yet the day beckons, and welcome it I must
For these aching tired bones have a mountain challenging my Faith.
Walk your way Brother, choose your road well.
Or walk with me a mile-or two and should your feet
Feel the pain, I shall carry you along our way.
Be well, and safe beloved friend.
JD 5/26/10
In a world of fury and sound, where all about chaos surrounds
We run in circles of endless chase, our lives we spend in perpetual haste.
The road to no where is littered with dreams, each a broken heart and left to bleed.
Walk along this journey with care, for every step finds a fallen brother there.
There is a place where peace still dwells, untouched within our spirits well
The golden cord which holds the means, To dip within forgotten dreams.
The river flows within each soul, as we search for treasure of joy untold.
While all about are losing their way, look to Jesus who holds the day.
Speak your mind with tales of old, open your heart for all to own.
A poet’s tale is one of words, to paint the world in ways he yearns.
Ones true love and passion on fire, words to color every desire.
Within the realm of thought he resides, expressing without, all inside.
Inspiration knows no void, where love and compassion forever join
Speak the truth in kindness first, and quench the hearts of all who thirst.
Make no man beg his need, when in his hour you can heed
Prepare your heart to receive, when first you act, then believe.
The silence of thousand tears, dance in the wind beyond his years
To know the place from which they came, one need only feel his pain.
Known by few he walks alone, beyond horizons edge toward his Heavenly home.
Though he still has miles to go, his eyes are fixed above as the world slips below.
The world cries out for others to create, explain all things between love and hate
“Tells where, and when and why“, expose the truth, your soul open while others pry.
Should the truth be much to bear, eyes go blind while we pretend to care.
If not beauty or wonder he shares, deafness falls on all who hear.
A poet’s tale is one of truth, a journey begun in innocent youth
He grows in age and wisdom learned, gives the mass what they yearn.
In the darkness when midnight falls, his echo follows in empty halls
What the words fail to carry, are all thoughts he’s forced to bury.
He views the world in hues of gold, where friends are cherished, loved and told
His heart is open for all to see, the gift of love, is always free.
Write the words upon the page, the world will judge throughout the age.
Grace and peace his gift to all, and all will watch when he falls.
There is no end to this story, for when dawn breaks he’ll bask again in God’s Glory
Should the morrow find him well, another adventure he will tell
He who has ear let him hear, the poets song of love so dear.
Who and what is a man inside, no longer will his soul he hide.
JD. 15-June 2010.
