Are we waiting to implode ?

It doesn't take wise men or Solomon to see how we as a nation are coming undone.  As with many "things" we are now a society that is being considered obsolete by those that are creating a new vision and a global world.  Those of us who placed value on our past history and our constitution now see it being rewritten by an evolving culture, one that is influenced by the media,  the money and bitter politics.

It is easy to see the outside forces that believe they have the "goodwill of man" in mind. Global efforts and shifting powers are in play.  As if a game of chess, a plan is always in play. The future is patiently waiting  for a new vision to unfold.

Quiet acquiescence suits some who know where the power lies. Yet our heavy hearts had hoped for a better world for our children. We worked hard and quietly took care of the needy in our neighborhoods.  Every man's accomplishment was cheered on and rewarded with pride and the respect one had earned. We encouraged on going education and planted christian values in our children. We got caught up in the ecumenical movement and respected all faiths and the men who built values for all of us to measure up to. We are aware of our own flaws and do not give up, we will fight for what we cherish.


Yet now, as if unrest is the norm we are being leaned on from the "outside"  toxic irritants at play. In spite of our great steps forward in closing racial and cultural divide, timely divisive pollutants now fill our air. As if a puppet master rules over our powers to be and footman stand by and  stir up the long buried pain of our growth as a civilized country.

We are being stacked against each other now and losing our personal space. How long will it take to implode ? Some in our great nation will continue to fight the uncivil, and the depreciating culture of those trying to destroy values of a proud society.  Growth and positive change can come without "throwing away the baby with the bath water."

We are stronger when we respect each others values and richer when we share them.


We can only hope for divine intervention for the simple man in tears.

A garden of lost children

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Daddy said someone took mommy away... And he cried with my brother and me... Hoping she would come home any day... Wanting things like they used to be... Daddy cradled us carefully... In the place we called home... The now burned down halls... Where we cried and we roamed...

I dare you to love us... Your first born child... And the brother I had... Who laughed and smiled...

"You don't look the same daddy... What is so wrong... Where is our mommy... And where is her song?"...

I think I smell gasoline... Why are you so cold...Why is the surprise... The hatchet you hold...

You said that you loved us... But this we do know... Your eyes were so empty... When you hurt us so...

When we go to that space... Where other dead children Are kept in this place... A place between life... And their sad unknown... A garden of lost children... Who are never alone..

Words left in the shifting sands..

After walking the shores in South Jersey, I wondered where my inspiration would come from, then when I least expected it, the sand showed me everything I needed to know. As we are bombarded by the media with incoming messages that all we know is likely to change and not necessarily for the better. I wondered if these words were indeed true, or were they like the small and large sand castles that lined the shores last summer. Many beach lovers, especially the young children with the help of their moms and dads, spent hours creating sand castles. Some, in between eating their hot dogs and drinking their warm soda, actually drew a crowd. A competition began and their castle's took on a life of their own. Each bigger and more uniquely beautiful than the other as the day went on. The rest of us re-lathered with suntan lotion dragged our blankets over to our favorite spots, and watched them until the sun slowly took their spotlight away. Today in the chill of a winter sun, the castles are all gone, having been wiped away by the reality of the season and changing tides. The barren beach is now left with only pock marks where fragments of litter lie and where castles once sat. We wonder about our times and our truths, and because we believe, or not, we do know that new castles will be built by our young when the time is right. And even though we have no control over these things, the seasons will gracefully grant us another chance to enjoy the warmth of summers and to live as if the tides will never come.

"There are two ways of spreading light, be the candle or the mirror that reflects it"

Extreme Makeover was one of the most popular TV programs during the last nine years.

Those who volunteered and those who contributed to its success received the accolades they so deserved.  The final show was in Joplin Missouri where they began the resurrection of a town that was hit by a devastating tornado last summer.

In addition to building and furnishing seven homes in a week. More was being done behind the scenes, the community park was rebuilt and college scholarships were offered to graduating seniors. Massive donations, and corporate support found  ways to begin getting Joplin back on their feet again.

That is the true power of the people.

 There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it * Edith Wharton

Just don't blow it out !

Recycling good thoughts

As the new year is off and running, writers are looking for inspiration again.  Each of us searching for the thought that opens the flood of energy that drives us and keeps us at our laptops. We hunger for words that reach our dormant finger tips and have a mind of their own.

I find myself bored by the mundane and the redundancy in today's political unrest. We are witnessing the subtle indoctrination of our youth,both in our society and in our great halls of education. The language used has been changed to meet and great an idealistic, but unrealistic new world vision. One that has failed in the past, yet it appears we are doomed to repeat.

If we were truly to learn from our mistakes,and to move forward to rights and freedoms for all, our best lessons would be in our history. Yet,it is said, that has been changed to be part of the larger plan, one that is not within our control As if the puppets with strings to the puppeteer.

We are unable to insulate ourselves or our families  from the negative forces we all live with. However, we do have the power as writers to perpetuate the positive things in our culture and be sure that it stays out there and is read .We can recycle the wisdom of the past and make it part of today.We can consider it a calling and make it our own. Such as reminding others of the wise words of George Washington:

"Be courteous to all,be intimate with a few,and let those few be well tried before you give them your confidence."

I miss you most at Christmas time

Ten pounds of love

As if gifted to me by the calling I had after I lost my 75 pound Weimaraner dog, I knew like a person, a loved pet can never be replaced yet I ached for another dog to love and to be loved back unconditionally.

You would think that a dog is a dog right ? No, in every case no. This small 4 pound yorkie was more like a cat. She jumped high off the ground and pulled off the scarf I was wearing when we first met. Never still and in constant motion. Yet, I found myself still making the decision to  keep her after her owner found her more than she could handle and was ready to give her up. I spent two weeks wondering if I had made a big mistake with this little dog.

But slowly she came to me and looking up at me as if to ask "can I trust you ?"  One day she leaped up into my lap and stayed there. We finally made a connection. The kind that is comforting like one's favorite blanket or old worn slippers.  I gave her a name I thought suitable to her personality, Sasha, she follows me room to room, even knows the time of day and night when she will let me know that its later then ususal for anyone of our routines.

 She is 10 pounds of willful independance and tucks herself into any suitcase or box that she thinks will leave without her. She also has her own travel bag and doesn't mind being tucked under the front seat of an airplane, in spite of her ticket being as costly as mine. She never barks in public and is used to the attention she gets when I have to take her out of her bag going through security. And me, clumsily like any barefooted, laptoped,  dog traveler I think most of the time it goes well.

Much of my budget includes a pet sitter that cares for her when I travel without her. But I would never have it any other way. Because she is the first one to greet me when I return. And I yell to her " Sasha, Mommy's home" And I know it matters to her. 10 pounds of love that fills my world unconditionally, just one of the many I love in my life.