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Archive for May, 2013

   
Courtesy of lightofheaven.com

Courtesy of lightofheaven.com

I awoke as from my normal sleep
I had died in the night while asleep.
I had no fear
I was at peace.
 
My spiritual body no longer had pain
That nagging toothache was gone
I still had a body of sorts
It was pure energy ever-growing.
 
My field of vision was three sixty
not just forward and to the side.
I could see all around me.
 
I was in a land of beauty
that my former body
would not have been able to tolerate
the radiance of its sheer beauty
would have crashed a physical body. 
 
From afar a white silvery figure approached
It was my Lord in robes of flowing enegy.
His spiritual hand reached for mine.
 
With a gentle tug
He remarked,
“Come….we are going Home.” 
 

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Courtesy of martybugs.net

The sand is pushed aside
as my feet are placed upon the landscape.
My footprints quickly disappear
as I move forward in my quest.
 
Blowing winds leave the mark of my path
but for a second
a mark of passing that becomes neither
a longing memory
or a recall by the passing landscape.
 
Are we too
a grain of sand
lost to a moment of time?

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Courtesy of umazzing.com

As of May 10th, 2013, the “Texas‘ Poetry Site” reached another milestone of 38,000 plus hits.  My deepest thanks and appreciation to the WordPress family, and all those who share my spiritual poetry work, as well as my Texas’ Commentary posts regarding my new communities in Henderson County, Texas, Eustace, Texas, Gun Barrel City, Texas and the Nation. 

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“………..pointing to a star”

 
 
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 it is 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. 

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Courtesy of dailymail.co.uk

Courtesy of dailymail.co.uk

You and I have shared many words
these many months 
yet I feel my heart bound to yours.
Why I feel that way I am not sure.
 
I do know that in the words we shared
something very special stirred in my soul.
It was a love that I thought I no longer had.
 
Your words brought that to me.
It seems the memory of your kisses
were from another starlight memory.
 
A time when it was just you and I
wrapped in the warmth of each other’s flesh.
Try as hard as I can
I cannot bring back the details of that time.
we were one in the eternity
that was behind us. 
 
I do know one thing my love
if I eyes ever met in the future before us
all we have now
would fall from us
and leave but one union
of two souls deeply in love.  
 

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Courtesy of answersto.wordpress.com

 
 
I could see the sadness in her eyes
as each chunk of her golden hair came forth in her hand.
She placed 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 her 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.

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Courtesy of Hubpages.com

 
She stood naked before me in the bathroom.
Before me I can see her beauty
amidst the scars of her two battles.
 
Breast cancer
twice in a ten year period.
 
Her left breast was twisted almost inward.
The scar under her arm pit made her nipple
bend inward toward her chest wall.
 
Upon her right breast the burn was clearly seen.
It was where six weeks of radiation were done
in one week. 
 
The right side was caved inward in this area of burn.
Her nipple stood straight high and proud on this breast. 
This was the breast that the doctor suggested
that she also have chemo due to her second bout.
 
Her hair had long grown back from this terror
of a heart-wrenching attack on her entire body.
 
As she smiled at me
and kissed the top of my head.
 
I thanked my Lord
for putting this beautiful
and strong woman
in my life.   

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Courtesy of picturesdepot.com

http://www.elvisconcerts.com/newspapers/press391.htm
 
It seems just like yesterday that Elis died.
In all the years that have passed since that sad day
he is still in my heart.
 
His passion
his being
his songs spoke of my own feelings.
You see
I grew up with him.
 
I remember being blessed in seeing him in person.
It was Dallas 1975.
I had a tenth row seat.
 
I could see the sweat on his forehead.
For months afterward
I had dreams of that time
I got to spend with him.
There will never be another Elvis.

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