Rivers flow over green stones as Unicorns dance around fairy enclaves. Rows of rainbows adorn the mist cast up by the silver water hitting the rocks. Trees with gold leaves sway in the warm breezes. Gnomes harvest mushrooms and scurry back to their holes before they are seen by prying eyes. Blue and Purple fish swim in the river jumping in and out of the water. Elves dash from tree limb to tree limb hunting for secret treasures hidden by Leprechauns, after they stole it away from some horrible troll. Magic reigns over the land where imaginations play. In the dark blue sky, 3 moons rise replacing the two suns. One is Jade Green, one is Ruby Red and one is Pail Blue. Each greater than the last. Night falls as White and Silver star light shines down. Tired eyes find rest after the day of imagination. They sleep dreaming of Unicorns and fairies as soft white clouds surround them. Until it is time to wake and play in the imagination again.

Digging into the earth and pulling out the iron. Sweat and muscle break rock and dirt. Coals are lain into the forge and the raw iron is poured into the Orange hole. Billows are pressed and Orange becomes White, as heat is poured out of the furnace like a devils breath. Slowly, the raw metal is purified. All the impurities rise to the top and are scraped away. Then the molten liquid is poured into the earthen mold. It cools slowly until it is bright glowing Orange. Then the master smith picks up his hammer as his apprentice holds the fiery billet in place. The sound of the bell chimes each time the hammer falls, striking against the hot burning metal. The chorus is performed and then repeated. Each time the fire heats the metal, and each time the hammer falls. The imperfections are driven out and the smith's hand begins to draw out the soul of the metal. From iron to steel the metal is formed. Taking shape with the hand of the master wielding the hammer, until that which was buried in the heart of the earth begins to glisten and shine. With each step that which was formless gains an edge. Sharpness is drawn out of the metal until the blade appears. Waiting for the hand of the person who will wield it and call it their own.

I cut and slash and rage at your picture. I kindle fire to do great harm in anger. My heart breaks in a thousand pieces and the blood runs red from my wrist. The scars that you can see are not as deep as the ones on the wounds that you cannot see. My heart is cut deeper than my wrist or your picture. Was I not good enough for you, was I not pretty enough. Did not love you enough. What made you turn my passionate love for you into a violent hate that wants to consume me at the same time drives me to long for you to even use me again, for being used by you is better than not being with you at all.

Anchor fast to the rock of your hope. Set your self on solid ground. Close your emotional boundaries and build the wall of solitude. Face the fierce gales of discontent! Hear them howl and beat at your fortifications. Change not your course, but hold fast to your values. Steady yourself and focus on the horizon. The darkness may be deep and the emotional turmoil may weary the spirit, but there is light that comes from the new dawn. Hope is in it and the purity of it shines through the discontent, bringing you guidance as you whether the storms of life.

Pushing up against the turning wheel, only to be ground down again. Trying to lift a burden that cannot be borne. Under the weight of the mill stone that has been placed on you. Struggle as you might, the oppressor keeps pushing you down. You grind away your life trying to climb up off of your knees only to be pushed back down. Under the weight of the mill stone that is keeping you weighted down.

I writhed in my bed, powerful visions stirring in my head. I broke out in a feverish sweat. My bed covers were soaking wet. I felt the passionate kisses, I wanted it to fulfill all of my ****** wishes. I felt it move from my feet to my face, I had to wake up and see my lovers face. Just as I was about to look into my lovers eyes, I felt the touch of a cold nose. I awoke to find that my dog had been licking me and has slobbered all over my bed and clothes.

What would you give to help another. What would you live without to save a friend. Would you forsake one year of your life to save the life of a stranger. What is the life of another worth to you. What is the cost to give a second chance. What price would you place on mercy. What is the cost you would pay to bring another person hope. What would you be willing to give.

Exterior wounds heal and leave behind their mark. You can often have them fixed, but not what is on a persons heart. Wounds that are emotional, do take time to heal, but the scars that are left behind, will never disappear. When a dream of true love is shattered, because that person doesn't love you. When a child is lost to a parent, this is a grievous wound. When you offer up everything just to have your life torn apart. These wounds cut deeply into a persons heart. So though some may wear a battle scar with dignity and pride. The scars that we have inside of us are the ones that can make us cry. These are the hardest ones to deal with, the scars you cannot see.

I was born of human frailty, and ****** into the heart of life's raging battles. My strength was tempered in the fire of oppression. My soul was purged through the need to sacrifice. I have carried burdens and I have been weighed down with fears. My mortal strength often fails, but my spirit has been purified as Gold through the furnace and silver through the fire. I am tempered and unblemished made ready for the master forgers hand. I will be created in the image of perfection, what ever the master determines that to be. I will be purified and made whole a vessel for the service of the greater good and worthy to inherit the kingdom to come.

Guiltless a lamb stood before his accusers brought to the judgment-seat. He made not a sound as he was mocked and scorned he simply stood Waiting for the End. Rejected by Those whom he had helped he went quietly to his end. Upon A rugged tree the Son of God died and bore all of my sins from me.

Be patient and let me begin. Let me strip away the layers of who I am. Let me show you the complex disguise I use to hide my scars and pain. Let me take away the battle armor that protects my inner self. Let me remove the barriers to who I really am, let me disrobe for you so you may know the real me.

Darting about in the water of a stream, following cool water into a vast deep lake, swimming in a vast school or exploring the secrets of a deep ocean, oh to be a fish who only needs to swim. I would lose all of my fear of water and jump for joy above the waves. I would hide under a cool rock and sit while the water rushes by me. I would have a simple life uncomplicated by the things that men and women are hassled with. I could spend a day exploring an underwater cave seeing what treasure a pirate might have left behind only to flick the glistening gold with my tail because it is worthless to me. My journey would be fascinating each day if I could be a fish, what fun that would be.

Render good to those who cannot repay you. Offer mercy to those who do not seem to deserve. Give but do not expect to receive in like kind. Smile at each day, even if it is dark and gloomy, for somewhere there is a need for rain. Count your blessings and not your problems and soon you will find the problems are not so important. Live in harmony with all as well as is possible. Pray often for others even if they don't know you did it. Care deeply for family and try to forgive even if it is hard to do sometimes. Let these be the links in a chain of kindness that binds us all together as friends.

The light has faded from the sky and dark clouds have blocked out the heavens. The streets are filled with waste and buildings have been abandoned. Hope is missing from those who are left, despair can be seen in the faces that peer out from broken windows. The wealth of the land has been stripped away and poverty is all that remains. Justice is a  myth that it talked about in bedtime stories and brutality and want are all too real. In cities across the land this is the stark reality and a resounding truth. A once vibrant kingdom has become nothing more than a dark foreboding land.

Holding the knife as I lick the blade. I think it is sharp enough. I slice a piece of paper and listen to the sound with my eyes closed. I rub the cool steel blade along my wrist. I look as the veins pulse. I wonder how long it hurts, I wonder how the flowing blood feels. I am not sure if I will do it just yet. I am still undecided. Each day I sharpen the blade, each day I contemplate make the cut. I only know that if I decide to do it, I will cut it long ways.

Caw caw caw cries a black bird in a tree. From a like high up in a weathered lifeless oak, the bird stares at me. A cold wind blows by and a chill runs down my spine. Caw caw cries the black bird as it takes flight. Down the bird descends beneath dark and dreary skies, landing on a solitary Grey rock caw caw caw it calls to me. I stop and stare into the dark messengers eyes. Now I understand the Ravens purpose and why the Ravens cries. Come come come is what it says to those who are about to die.

Ties for Christmas, boxes of fruit cake, and ugly sweaters galore. The list I have kept for many years now I will keep it no more. It is time to give back to many people at last. To each person who ever thought of the tie, I re-gift just not the same one to the same guy. For all of the sweaters that I could never wear, I have kept them tucked away with great care. Back to a like minded sender they go. I will enjoy watching people try them on you know! For the numerous fruit cakes that resulted in many gym trips, I return twice the confections in their place. Oh how merry I will be watching others pack on the pounds with glee. Finally after all of these years, I will be vindicated you see . People will wonder why oh why, did I give such things that one should not buy. That is the point exactly, with each thoughtfully thoughtless gift. The gifts from the mad guy beware, perhaps you are on his list.

On foreign fields and on streets back home. I wear a uniform and I am not alone. Brothers and sisters wear it and keep watch with me. We are vigilant on land, in the air and at sea. Our colors fly high, even though we are not always seen. We can be stealthy to take the enemy by surprise. Sometimes we want to be seen, so that others will realize. Coming after our freedom will carry a heavy price, even if it may cost some of us our lives. So when you see my brothers, sisters and me. Remember that no matter what the price, we will keep you free.

I have many imperfections and faults to my credit. I have little in the way of perfection. I am often temperamental and judgmental. I put on airs but I am really insecure. Despite what I may accomplish, I am sometimes unsure of myself. I want to do better, I just don't know where to start? What I should work on first is an utter mystery to me. I can be moody and often times insufferable. If I do form a true friendship, I will likely find a way to mess it up. Despite all that I am not, I am a work in progress. I am human.

Pose for the flashes and give them what they want. Become surreal life an image trapped in time. Walk the way your supposed to and become the thing of fantasies and dreams. You are one of a kind, you are for the moment. You are a face in the crowd, the one the crowd wants to be. Give away all that you are and just a little bit more. Bask in the limelight and  become dissected as the Paparazzi pull your every move apart. Looking for that fatal flaw, trying to find your more human side. You are part of the image, you are the trend that others have set. So smile for the camera and enjoy your fleeting moment in the sun.

In his will I will be tested. In his will I will face trials. In his will I shall over come. In his will I will find safe haven. In his will I will know triumph. In his will I shall find guidance. In his will I will be made as gold and silver purified in the fire. In his will all things will be possible. In Gods will I shall prevail and receive comfort and in the end a crown. So though I must walk a straight path and sometimes stumble, I know that I will find forgiveness and loving kindness in his will.

Love has no agenda, it sees no racial lines. When two hearts cross each other all things become invisible. Only the joy of finding another of like passion is known. Crowns are forsaken, families are denied and positions are forgotten all because love knows no lines.

I keep it locked deep inside of me. I seldom let it speak. When it does it confuses me. It screams at me and rages for no reason at all. I keep it locked away deep inside of me. I smile politely to most people when the voice inside me wants to scream obscenities at them. I do not know why it does, I just no I can't let it out. It warns me when I am being stupid, but I seldom listen. It tries to get me to do things I do not want to do, but it says are fun. I keep up appearances, but I grow tired of putting on a show. I keep it locked up deep inside of me, but my inner voice is clawing its way out.

The battle has been long and hard fought. I have lived fearful that I would be seen as weak. I have struggled with my own pride and wrestled with an aching heart, but at last I have come to wonder why I even fought. Looking into eyes soft and welcoming, I realize that I could only fight in vain. Your passion is as over whelming as the fragrance of a field of Lilly's. Your depth of caring rivals the deepest ocean. In utter exhaustion from the emotional struggle, but at last in complete peace, I surrender to love and to a part of myself that I never knew that I was missing.

Hair like hues of red in a setting sun, the smell of Apricots on her skin. Freckles that dot her face and show up when she grins. Laughter that sounds like a babbling brook. A soft gentle spirit that can soothe the greatest cares. Kindness that is beyond compare. Such are the things that make my love a wonder. A pleasant distraction of grace and beauty to diminish the worldly cares and give me safe refuge from the things that haunt me everyday.

From sententious curves to full lips. From dark hair to ***** blonde. With pail blue eyes or dark brown, be at peace with yourself. From a case of the giggles to a kitten sneeze, know that you are special. Beauty is subjective and you are truly beautiful. In your own way, you hold beauty. You were created and made unique. You are special in so many ways. Be confident with who you are. Always love yourself.

Beneath the ground you walk on, in dark crevices and cracks. Things creep and move with little concept of time. Stones sit idly for eons of time waiting for the earth to shift and groan. A niche is carved out and a pool of water forms. Things begin to grow and flourish around the pool in the dark deep recesses of the earth. Life finds a way in the harshest of places. In deep caves where it seems impossible for it to exist. As we scurry around like bacteria in a plastic dish, life evolves, lives and dies all around us, while we are seldom aware of the secrets the caves, and natural subterranean world holds above and beyond what we can know and understand.

I was out walking when I saw an old woman. She was walking with a cane. When I started to speak to her, I saw that as he had a child by the hand . she was comforting the little one and telling them it would be ok. I was looking at the news just the other day,when I saw the most amazing thing. Children were out singing at an old folks home, and took the time to pray. I could swear that in the back ground I saw an old woman but this time she had no cane. She just looked at me and smiled, then in a blink, she was gone from the scene. Though I can't prove it, I'm sure she was an angel, even though I never saw her wings.

I have on two different socks and my shoes don't match. I left my coffee cup on top of my car and I can't get to work on time for a month. My boss wants to give me a drug test, my mother thinks I am sick. My coworkers are not sure what the problem is. I fumble in my speech and I day dream a lot. I must admit, I have thought that I am coming down with something myself. Then the clock rolls to 5 pm and my sanity returns. I am focused and alert, for I have a pressing engagement that I must attend to. Moving through traffic like some futuristic machine, I make it home in record time. There to find a wonderful girl waiting for me. The truth be told, I am not mad I am just in love.

Majestic might and gentle creature thundering across the plain. Shaggy brown coat covered in snow from the winter cold. An unending line of history going  back to before man came to your land. Now so few of you remain. Misunderstood and taken from your people, who only visited you when they had need. In numbers too vast to count, once you covered the land. Like a dark carpet upon the earth you roamed. Here and there across open spaces of tall golden grass. Through deep running rivers you would go. Brining your young with you, measuring time by the way the snow would fall and the grass would grow. Now you dwindle and are pushed into history. Your proud line laid low. The spiritual symbol for native strength, the majestic Buffalo.

When all seems lost and it appears humanity will fail, one person can be a beacon to stir up the soul. It isn't always the great leaders that move people to do great things, but the solitary giving of hope through mercy that is the inspiration that brings miracles to pass.

Let me show you a vision, let me tell you of many things. Look inside my mind and see where dreams come from. Peer into the snowy garden, look at the summer rain. See the world as I see it, watch it ever change. Hear the bird songs that inspire me. Come to grips with agony and pain. See the world as it really  is and not as you would like it to be. Walk on the beaten path, and travel the forgotten road with me. Sit under the shade tree, and watch the changing of the leaves. Take a moonlight stroll on a beach and know a lovers embrace. Hold the hand of a hurting child and wipe the tears from the gentle face. Dance with Unicorns in a Willow grove, with fairies all around. See the sun set in the East and watch the moon come down. See from behind my eyes all the wonder you can imagine. Broken hearts and forgotten dreams waiting to come from the end of my pen. Wake me when there is no color in the world, and I will fill in the blank slate. I will dare to be a voice of imagination, I will fill the empty space. My visions are my own but I wish to let the world see them, as I do. I live in a poets dream everyday, how does the world appear to you?

Jetting out of the water on their tails, cackling at the birds that fly over head. Racing against mighty ships and small boats. Diving under them and back up again. Roaming the open sea unimpaired, Dolphins perform a ballet. Tricksters and noble creatures, they call to each other and flutter through the waves. Dancing over the swells, the elegant creatures swim in splendor, oh to see the Dolphin dance.

Buildings set still like barren mountains in a dry wasteland. Impoverished people wander through the ***** streets like a nomad in a foreign desert. The skyline in the distance is filled with bright lights, similar to the stars that fill a clear desert sky. The decay and death of a neighborhood has a similar feel to a dying forest. The tall light poles look like barren petrified trees and the drainage ditches resemble dried up rivers. Empty beer cans resemble long forgotten fossils. The picture of blight is the same, the desert just goes by a different name. It is surrounded by a prosperous city instead of mountains and rivers that would flow around a desert place.

The air is cold and the lights are dim. Even in the coolness of the early morning, my palms sweat. I pull the blade from it's sheath and begin the ritual. Scrape goes the blade over the sharpening stone. Scratch goes the blade over the honing stone. An action repeated equally on both edges of the knife. Honing the blade to a glistening edge. One blade after another, until they are all perfectly sharpened. I look at my victims laid out in a specific order. I can see the veins and their limbs as they wait for me. I move my sharpened cutlery to where my victims lay. With each precision cut I spill their blood and juices. One by one they are precisely cut. I begin to tear up as I am splattered by the juices from them. My hands are stained red with their life's blood. As quickly as the carnage begins, so it ends. The vegetable are set aside and made ready for my kitchen and the making of the days fare.

The flowers of the field are adorned in great beauty and the Sparrows want not for a seed to eat. I am of great value and yet I doubt what I cannot see. In truth all things are not my own, I only borrow them for a little while. Each sunrise and sunset is a masterpiece, we just fail to see it. All things are made ever present and all that I will require is waiting for me. From the time that I take my rest until the sun rises again, God knows my needs.

Let the vision of God be not blinded nor his hearing deaf. Let your hand oh lord be ever strong. Look at those who strive with your servants and call them into question. Remember the persecution of your children. Keep watch over your chosen and bring them peace. Give mercy where it is due and judgment where it is required. Be long suffering and forgiving, but bring justice to those who suffer persecution. I seek you oh lord to avenge me on those who are against me.

The world looks for the creator of all things, but cannot see God. Many people talk about God , but don't live what they teach. There is enough misery and suffering in the world to make us wonder where God is. Yet it is in the most obvious and unlikely places that we find God.

People and fish are not so different. We both live in a pond. Fish live in a pond filled with Lilly pads and moss and people live in a pond of their surroundings. People walk around with their mouths moving but often do not say a whole lot that makes sense. A fish moves it mouth but doesn't say a whole lot either. People can be hooked into a scheme or idea, just like a fish can be hooked with the right bait. People may spend lots of time in a school but learn very little that is useful. Fish also gather for school but they to often learn very little. A fish can be slimy and smell bad, so can humans but in a different sort of way. So when you think about it, we are not so different, humans and the fish.

Microscopic specks on a pile of dirt. Rushing around reshaping their world. Never quite satisfied with their environment, always making changes. Looked at under a magnifying glass, they seem kind of ugly. Not sure of some things, seemingly too sure of others. The work as a singular unit, directed by some unseen need. Generations come and go, yet nothing of their basest selves seems to change. Always the same, scurrying around digging holes and making changes. Aren't humans the most curious creatures, if only we were more orderly like Ants in a farm?

In my closet, I have racks of clothes. Some of them I can't wear and some I don't even know where they are from. I clean it out yearly, but much to my surprise, it fills back on it's own, I swear the clothes just multiply. So this year I will do something different than I did last spring. When the weather changes I will get rid of everything. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I have quiet an ingenious plan. I will just by a whole new wardrobe and then I can begin again. I can keep track of my clothing and it won't have a chance to multiply. So I must get started cleaning for a new wardrobe I can buy.

I put on airs and comb my hair. I dress to impress and speak so eloquently. I practice my smile for hours and keep up with the latest styles. I know all of the latest trends and I can listen to nothing intently for hours. I project the perfect appearance of what the world calls success, yet I feel no happiness, no only self pity and regret. Though I have put on the outer shell of what I think will make me happy, the truth is I am only hiding from myself.

Run your hands over my body, make me scream. Bite me and pinch me in places that give me pain. Pull my hair and make me beg. Turn me over and give my *** a smack. Force me to bend down for you and tell you I like it. Use me for what ever turns you on. I am not a good girl, I want to be used. I am not your mothers choice, I have nothing to lose. I like it when you make me squeal and cause me a little pain. What I call having fun, others call depraved.

Now comes the parade of litigators with degrees in hand. The legal counsel that works behind the scenes. Deals are cut and cases are shuffled around the court house as lives are taken apart unless you can afford the price of justice. The grist wheel turns grinding the bodies into the system like so much pulp. The poor are the victims of the injustice that purports to be blind, while in truth it rushes to judgement and has empty beds to fill in the prisons that dot the landscape. The police roam the streets like so many big game hunters, each looking to fill their quota. While politicians line their pockets with funds derived from the misery they sell, filling jail beds and taking kickbacks from their corporate overlords who profit off of the labor in the prison factories, where slavery is legalized and condoned by the system that says it is blind and fair. While a person fights for the right to be recognized as a person again, the victim is forgotten by the system that does little to console those who have lost so much, with loved ones torn away by violence and ****** into jails or the grave leaving poverty and want in the wake of the process, thus repeating a never ending cycle that no one really wants to end, lest the truth be told that justice is truly blind, but not to the impartiality as one would suppose, but by the gold and silver that is heaped at the feet of lady justice that will corrupt judgment and look the other way for a price.

There once was a man who was called to war. He had never served in an earthly army. He was a man of a simple trade. Born a carpenter and raised to work with his hands. He stood for a short time to fight for his fellow man. Then one day, the mortal battle was lost. They captured him and nailed him to a cross. On the tree between two criminals he gave up his last courageous breath. He forgave the enemy, even at his death. Then a miraculous thing happened after the lay him in the grave. On the 3rd day he arose from solider to commander our mortal souls to save. He is now crowned the captain of the armies of the heavenly host. He will come again in power and glory filled with the holy ghost. Who is this simple solider you might want ask, why it is Jesus of course, the first and the last.

A vacant lot has been taken over by people in rubber boots. The asphalt is being torn up and the earth beneath gets to see sunlight for the first time in years. Seeds are being sewn in neighborhoods without the governments help. People are taking charge of their own lives. The air is becoming cleaner and neighbors are working together again. Children get their hands ***** and learn what a garden is. No more is it a place where a lone farmer grows our food, but a place of unity that builds a community and breaks down barriers and abates fear as it helps people learn to live together again.

Lilies will be magnificent and Tulips will be grand. Posies by the dozens, those I can understand. So why so many Roses, they are too complicated. With sticky thorns and so many colors. I get confused just thinking about them. So bring me a Coronation or a bouquet of Violets if you must. Anything but Roses, I have seen them quiet enough.

Towers of steel and glass melt away and fade into history. The land of the free is not so free after all. Making a phone call has become an act of suspicion. When did our nation fall? What made us great has been undone, regulations and restrictions are placed on free speech. The right to agree to disagree has been replaced with interrogations and political correctness. Why can't I just say what I feel? America once was a melting *** ,now it must melts into oblivion. The courage that once made the nation feared by its enemies has been replaced by complacency and apathy. No enemy has harmed us from without, it is the fires from with in that bring us down. Social division and strife have erupted into fires of censorship and persecution that are leading to the burning of America from within.

Tatters of reality lay at my feet. What used to be is now incomplete. I lay on the floor wretched and undone. My emotions are rippedto shreds as I wait for what comes next. Gaping wounds let my soul bleed out. Tears run like rain to the rivers. I am awash in misery and emotional turmoil. I feel as if the ocean has welled up inside of me. I do not know where to go from here. I sit at the bottom of a well of despair. Perhaps I will just lie here until my feelings have all been drained, then I may have the strength to climb back out again. I hope one day to again see the sun, I may yet survive the things that have been done. My love was shattered by you without a second thought, how could you leave me this way. Just sitting here with my life broken into pieces.

A loaf of bread takes a lot of effort to make. Finding the grains and crushing each seed to release what lies within. Then sifting the meal that comes from the grain, until it is refined. Depending on what kind of bread you want, you may blend many types of meal from many different types of grains. Once this is done, you can begin to make bread. Adding water and yeast to the meal more commonly known as flower begins the process. The doe is kneaded and tossed until it reaches the right consistency. The doe must then be given a chance to sit until the yeast has become active and makes the doe rise. Once this is accomplished, the doe is placed on or in a pan and put into a very hot oven. There the doe cooks until it is done and the bread is made. What seems to be a simple thing takes a great many steps to create something that is enjoyable and delicious. Why do we expect life to be any less complicated than making bread? Why can't we all be more like the bread and have so much in common as we all come from the basic seeds of humanity, we are just different in some ways, but can blend ourselves to make something wonderful?