One part that does one thing. That is all that I am. A single piece of a divine puzzle that makes the bigger picture come into focus. Giving a glass of water in the masters name, is assurance of a reward. Planting a single seed, can feed the hungry souls of many. One tree can bear much fruit. To be of the body is to be of worth to Christ. To be of the body, is to have everlasting life. To be of the body, is to work for it's good. Even the smallest deed, is done for the masters glory.

Your skin is pure as the snow covering a mountain valley. Your eyes shine like two stars in the heavens. Your hair flows like the Lilies of the Field in the Wind. Each foot step you take is as gentle as a hummingbird's wings. You are far more than human your soul must be divine. So how shall I a mere mortal love you? When it is so obvious that the host of Heaven would gladly call you their own, and yet you have cast your gaze on an imperfect creatures such as I.

He that spoke creation into being,the creator of the first light. Teacher of wisdom and giver of knowledge, the unseen guiding hand. Let creation reverence you and give you adoration. Let your love and mercy fill our hearts with compassion. He that was first and is last hear our praises of your holy name. We lift you up and remember you, let us come humbly before you in all things. Let your children seek out your will, hear us oh ancient of days.

Outside looking in on the world, I feel as I am odd. A piece of a puzzle that doesn't quite fit, not sure where I should try to make an entry or what I should mesh into? I feel as if there are aged layers upon me as if I were an ancient thing waiting to be unearthed. So much of myself is a mystery and so much of the other world I see is unknown to me. I feel as if my skin is alien sometimes, when I try to open up a heavy weight comes crashing down on my efforts. Oh how I want to be accepted, oh how I just want to find a place that I can belong.

Feeling euphoria then falling like a rain drop, going back and forth unable to stop. Wanting to feel warmth like basking in the summer sun. Conflicted inside, feeling as if you are turned inside out. Love is a drug that I cannot do without. You are my addiction, I suffer withdrawal when you leave me.    There is no substitute for the way I become intoxicated when I am with you.

Let my life be a book that others can read. Let it reflect the goodness and not the ill of my being. Let my path be one of teaching and of listening. Let me seek knowledge as precious gems. Let my deeds show a better way of living, and let my resolve to stand firm in my convictions with aggression as my last recourse, be evident in my philosophies. Let kindness be my way of dealing with ill treatment and let me show love when others show prejudice. In the end let my life be the living word that I speak to others who wish to know who I am and what I believe.

Writhing in my bed wrapped in satin sheets, my lover fills me from head to toe. A vision that cannot be seen, but my body reacts just the same, giving and receiving pleasure. I exist in a state of grace, yet not of holy union. I am filled with images of your body and the heat of your touch. A fire burns inside of me that must be quenched, and only you can douse the burning embers. So come now and satiate my appetite for the pleasures of the flesh, if only in my dreams, give me rapture and let my passions be released.

Confections built up as mountains of pleasure, Almond milk enriched without measure. Solid dark to milky light, oh what a sweet lovers delight. In the back in a cool dark place, sit the Coco beans waiting to be given their place, processed and mixed with sugar, until it is just so sweet, oh what an oh so tempting treat. So little by little, some of the confections go missing, just a few items here and there, nothing really worth mentioning. The only real clue are small foot prints that lead to a tiny whole, what could be taking away the product do you suppose? Then one day a well placed trap captures the proof, on a video take the Chocolate thief turns out to be an ordinary mouse with a sweet tooth.

Wisp of smoke walking in plain sight of others. We cast only a faint shadow as we float along. We are living in a thin veil of reality. We pretend that our lives have purpose and focus, when in truth many of us never know our true purpose. So why the pretense of trying to be what we are not comfortable with. Our existence is a vapor inside a mirage, that lives in a snow globe that is shaken often by circumstance and fate. We are simply pieces in a puzzle that never quite fits together unless you reshape the pieces. So we live on wisp of smoke, in a false reality. We are but ghost of ourselves.

Reaching into the forge of the soul and pulling out hot embers of prose, the pen falls onto paper as the hammer falls to the anvil. Striking the proper cord and beating out the embers of a phrase, just as a blacksmith draws out the iron into a fine implement, each fiery exclamation comes from deep with in the heated passion of the writer. Again and again the words are poured out like molten metal. The story or the poem takes shape. The vision of the artisan being realized in ink just as the tool or object reaches finery in the hands of the craftsman, so the wordsmith crafts the written work.

When you feel that your past cannot be forgotten and the shame of it brings you down. God does not remember the things that were covered, he only sees the blood. When you stumble and fall and think how can I come back again. If you repent for what you have done, he only sees the blood. When others persecute you and question all you believe, hold fast to his mercy for he only sees the blood. What was past has been washed away, and will be remembered by God no more. For all of your sins are forgiven when you seek his mercy, for he only sees Christ blood.

Pomp and circumstance take center stage at a ball given by royalty. Ladies adorned in armored gowns walk politely around the ballroom. A knight of medieval chivalry is not so well endowed with protection. For any gentleman Who would know such a Fair Maiden, covered in her impenetrable shell. It will be a guessing game as to what her beauty holds, for little is revealed beneath the veneer and the makeup. It would be easier to come to carnal knowledge in a convent where perhaps Devine eyes would look away. Such was the way of trying to engage the Victorian tryst, it would be easier to understand a Shakespearean play.

If I were a written word, what might I be penned down as? Would I be a love poem too sad to read in full. Would I be a poem of inspiration that gives the heart courage, or one of fear and loathing that turns the reader cold and indifferent. If the person that I am could be transitioned into the words on a page, then perhaps I would be a little bit of all of these and a few things more. Though it would be my hope that the better part of my humanity would be penned down with great care though I fear that because I am imperfect, that the negative aspects of my self would still find their way into the work.

A large stone sits in front of my brain. I can't move it, no matter what I try. A Granite bolder blocks out the words. I only feel a pounding pain, nothing else can be heard. I chip away at the corners of the stone, trying to squeeze out a few lines, but nothing will come. Some may think it is funny, but surely I do not. It always frustrates me when I get this writers block.

We look back but refuse to believe. We see but will not heed the warnings. The past is littered with the broken dreams of failed would be Gods. Many have gotten wealth, land and prominence, only to have it ripped away from them. Many have said my strength will save me, only to have it taken from them by age and sickness. To believe that you can change a thing is foolish. To think that you matter is unwise. When you draw your last breath, you will fade into irrelevance and become a foot note in time. All great deeds are forgotten, and all monuments fade. Fortunes are left to wise men or fools, no one can tell until time passes. Kindness and mercy are the only true gifts that we have to give. As expressions of love, they mark the lives of others. They are a testimony to our lives that will endure. Evil is ever present and cruelty is formed out of a desire to gain the illusion of control. Once we draw our last breath, then our lives and our deeds become history and will be remembered and then forgotten. This is what history reveals.

The timber is stained with the Crimson flow. The nail holes tell the story. The turning point of eternity, the place where all can become worthy. The Crimson flow that makes you white as snow. The place where a choice is made. On a barren hill, the cross road can heal it all.

Unable to forget your scent, longing for your touch. Desiring to hear your laughter, my heart melts that I am away from you. To not see you for one moment is unbearable. I long so to hold you close to me. Your warmth is like the noonday sun. I miss the beauty of your  smile. Your lust for life, makes me want to be with you even more. I am passions slave when it come to you.

Spring brings thoughts of love and June remembrance of marriage. I long for winter when the frost is cold and the snow comes deep. It is then that my heart is frozen and feels no pain for its loss. When love is gone from my memory and frozen trees give me comfort. When my emotions are as cold as a winter mountain stream, then is my soul at rest for there is no feeling in my heart of the pain of lost love.

As a trickle of water from the heights of a mountain or the depths of the earth, so began my life. It started from a singular lonely place and moved forward slowly. Drip by drip until it formed a small stream. Then the path narrowed and it became faster until it began to rush forward. Into a widening river until it again slowed on it's journey to the sea. Into the sea my life goes, where all that I am is lost and forgotten among the masses of people and the passing of time. Like the water of the river that flows into the sea, I to shall be drawn up and start again my journey. Into a different path and a new life.

We can put a man on the moon and grow food in the freezing cold. We can make fuel out of grass and light up the darkest night. We can clean up water and shield ourselves from the sun. We can talk to each other in a few seconds of time and share ideas around the world. We can give back lost limbs and cure that which could not be cured.  With all that we can do, why can't we get along?

The lights are blinking and the tinsel glistens in the night like silver strings. People are shopping for their loved ones and anticipating the things that they will be given. The world looks on as we celebrate our good fortune. As we share our love with those close to us, let us not forget what it really means. When you see the cold, offer them something warm. When you see the hungry, give them more than they can eat. When you see the homeless, offer them a place to stay. Help someone out in the season of giving, and perhaps the world will be a better place.

Despite what makes us different, I offer you my hand. I will be a friend to you indeed. Though we may not agree, I will be there for you. I will always lend a helping hand. As long as you will have me, i will comfort you and offer you hope when none can be found. In all things I will do my best to understand who you are, I will accept you.

I have traveled through life and I have seen many things. I have been to many places and met many people. Though I have never done one great thing, I have given of myself. I have tried to leave kindness everywhere I have gone. Some might think this trivial, but I think it has it's worth. Forest don't come prepackaged neither does a world change overnight. Sometimes you aren't called on to be a great hero, just to be kind to someone in need. Giving a glass of water or simply sitting and listening to a persons troubles is sometimes all that is needed. When a troubled soul is at peace, then hope can begin to grow. With each person helped as I walked down the road. I did nothing extraordinary, I just filled a need. It was really nothing at all, I only planted seeds.

When your guide post disappear and you cannot see the stars for the dark clouds. Just call on me and I will be your compass. I will help you right your ship and trim your sails. I will reach out to you and guide you to safe harbors. Just be patient and I will be there. No matter how far you have strayed off course, I will find you. Set your rudder to the center and just look to the horizon, and soon you will see a light and know that my help is on the way.

Treasure can purchase so many material things, food, lands, and even so called friends. Though these things might joyful, the will soon fade away. For there are things more precious, that can't be purchased at any price. A few moments with a parent, cooking in the kitchen. Watching grandchildren play to your amusement. The chance to help someone you don't even know. One more moment of cherishing someone before they have to go. So when someone tells you that the pursuit of treasure is how you should spend your life, just remember the most precious things that money cannot buy.

Bearer of foreboding, carrier of souls over the land of the dead. Dark emissary for some unknown force. Why do you sit on my window sill ?Your wings shimmer like dark gems in the pail Grey light of day. The wind howls and you caw, sending a chill down my spine. Gathering in a tree just beyond my reach, your brethren become a ****** of Crows. Oh how you intrigue and frighten me, oh daunting messenger. Bring not fowl news to my door step, fly away to another persons refuge and be their bearer of bad tidings.

When it is my day to go on. When I have had my last moment in the sun. Look on me kindly and remember only the good things. Forgive me for my faults because I will be leaving them behind. Do not shed tears of grief because my life is done. I will have lived as best as anyone can. Simply smile and bid me a quiet goodbye and remember me in your own way. I will not be sad or lonely for I will have peace you see. In a new adventure I will let all of my cares pass away, as I learn the eternal truths when I move on.

Dripping with dark venom that comes over it's fang. It rips lives to shreds and reveals secrets! Like a dagger in the back, the pen opens up wounds and makes one betray another! The words flow out and can't be put back in! So when you suffer from a broken heart, or perhaps are a jilted lover or a no longer needed friend. Watch for the viper that will slide into your hand, then bite down hard as it release it's venom. So is serpent that is the poison pen.

The oceans churn, and the sky's turned black! The wind howls, and the mountains Shake! For too long we have relied upon ourselves. We have taken and not given, and hoarded up our wealth. We steal from the poor to enrich ourselves. Merchants sell death or trade lives like a pair of shoes. As long as our own belly are full, we think we are doing well. With each catostrophy, we are warned to change our ways, yet many fail to hear and blindly go on their merry way. For thoes of who heed the warnings, we may yet be saved. The change is coming whether we accept it or not. It doesn't matter if you believe that it be of nature or God. The truth will be the same, the world is reeling from our selfish ways and it is going to change.

Living on the street, crouching under a bridge to stay dry. Looking through trash cans for what others have left behind. No one to call nor anyone to care. Does anyone even know that I am here. My shoes have holes in them I can never get enough sleep. My clothes haven't been washed in a month and I have no appointments to keep. Shuffled from one part of town to the next, no one seems to care. If I were gone I wouldn't be missed. I walk through society, I am an illusion. People see me but to them I am invisible. I never asked to be this way, it just happened one day. I woke up and I had no one to care and no place to stay. It could happen to anyone, yes even you. If the circumstances are right you could wake up and see, how  your world has been taken from you and you are now like me, homeless.

Beyond the first falling of snow, the trees glisten with icicles adorning their barren limbs. A pail sun hides behind clouds as it seeks rest from a seasonal journey. Sleep cloaks the land as things long for renewal. The earth moves slowly towards an apex where night out weighs the day. The long shadow is cast and the stage is reset for a new play to begin. The old year comes to end and gives way to new possibilities. Many will set forth lofty goals only to crash to the earth as a single snowflake lightly touching down. Then evaporating into the air as if it never was. Let a call go out that will echo among the snow covered peaks, a resolution shall be made, to simply do better than before and be of some help to another. Thus a resolution is made that perhaps we can keep.

Oh caring soul that flows as gentle as a quiet brook. Oh giver of light and mercy. How kind is your touch and you endearing way. Your grace gives hope at your mere coming, you are a gift in of yourself.

Rivers run and wear away the rock until canyons come to be. Glaciers push forward and slowly melt away, as the sun rises and sets on them. An Acorn is planted in the ground and a mighty Oak comes to be, only a flicker of time has passed for the seed. The world turns and the seasons pass, but change seems slow to come. In reverent prayer we seek answers, but they seem like they will never come. Then as the spring surely follows the winter, flowers bloom with renewed beauty. In these things we see that all things happen in Gods time.

Let the light be taken away from the night and let your radiance outshine the sun. The celestial bodies are of no compare to you. The light of your love blinds me and you walk with footsteps as light a summer breeze. I long to hold you and to feel the warmth that your love projects. Flowers bloom in your presence and lives are changed because you have passed by. To know you is to love you and to be placed under your spell. You have stolen the moon from the heavens and replaced it with your smile.

I am not sure what is wrong, but I feel that she is somehow different. Perhaps I am paranoid, but I feel that something is going on. She smiles differently these days, she seems to glow with a new light. It didn't come over night, but it is beginning to worry me. She plays with her hair as she did when she first met me. She giggles like a teenage girl, when she is on a phone call but not with me. I fear that I may come in and she will just be gone. Perhaps I worry too much, but subtle changes have been happening for too long.

You don't need a reason to show me your love. You can let me know it anytime you like. What I feel for you cannot be killed. No one can come between us, no matter how they try. I love when you do special things to show me you care, but just having your love is special to me. So if you want to shower me with gifts then it's all right with me. You do not need a special occasion to let me see your love. Give me flowers if you like, I like Roses any day.

I pick up my pen and I scream into the paper. I cut the pages and pull out the pain that is in my soul. I tear at the fabric of the parchment. I cry in each word. I want to know that I am received. I want to know that I am heard. I write and post, and then wait. Sometimes if feels like ages before someone likes or hates what I have said. I care not if they love or hate me, I just want to know does anyone hear me.

Try as you might, some people will not change. The Heart Wants What It Wants and will not be dissuaded. Regardless of how wrong it may seem to those from the outside, love can be a hopeless campaign. It may take years to accomplish a single thing. It may be a whirlwind romance or love at first sight. Love may be young and old or it may cross class lines. Sometimes love must be worked for, it may take years to earn. Sometimes it's giving freely and turns out not to be worth the effort. Whatever love turns out to be, it is different for each heart. It can bring two people together or It can completely tear them apart. Sometimes love is just an impossibility, and illusion we fight for but can never really achieve.

We are all told that there is no God, but most don't believe that. We are told that we can live as we please, but many question that. The one thing that we are often told and many of us will buy, is that we will always have more time. Put it off until tomorrow, you can worship God then. You have too much to do today, pray later it will be all right. What we are doing when we put off God is playing with our lives, for no one is guaranteed tomorrow, so don't believe the greatest lie.

When night closes in and all my wealth is spent. When I am rejected by others and hope seems far from me. I know that I can run to you, for you are my better half. You are my greatest treasure, you are the center of my life. It is your love that sustains me. So when all else has go away and we stand alone. The world does not matter when your love is all I have.

Our outer self is just an illusion. We keep pretense to guard our feelings and our true beliefs. Nothing is as it appears, we hide behind the façade. If were to be totally honest with ourselves and others, how would the world really be?

The morning is still dark and the sun has yet to find it's place, yet I awaken before the light begins to break the eastern horizon. I know not what shall transpire, I only know that possibilities lie before me. I will take one step at a time into the unknown. From there the roads diverge into many possible endings. I must simply step carefully and trust in wisdom and experience to guide me. If I am true to myself and show kindness to others. Then perhaps the day to come will be one of accomplishment and become rewarding as I approach it's end, knowing that I left behind me worthwhile things, instead of a dark and empty space.

I speak my mind but no one listens. I scream but no one pays attention. So I stop talking and start doing. I find one problem then I solve it. Then I move on to the next. One person at at a time, one problem at a time. I make it my own affair to help others instead of myself. Little by little, my life begins to change. I see the world begin to close in around me. When I was screaming no one would listen, but now that I am quiet and doing something about it, my words of action seem to speak louder than I ever could.

Under the shadow of an old stone bridge, by a cobblestone way, I hold the rarest flower  in a lovers embrace. Surrounded by golden and white blossoms on running Honeysuckle vines, her lips offer an intoxication beyond the flowers that scent the air around us. I lose myself in her essence and embrace the dream that is consuming my waking world. I let her absorb me into herself so that I am part of her being. She holds me tightly and draws me even deeper into her paradise. I surrender all of myself and become but a faint memory, as I stand embracing my love in a singular moment that is frozen in time.

Open the cylinder and put a bullet in. Whirl it around and close it up again. Put it to the side of my head and give the trigger a pull. Catch my breathe and take a drink and do it once again. Take some more chances, I think I will just jump in.

Is Chivalry truly dead, has honor been lost? Where is the round table and where are the chargers in plated mail glistening in the sun? Where are the cries for justice and where have the songs of valor faded to? Are there no more hero's to ride to the rescue, not for gold or glory but for the sake of nobility and doing what is right. Where are all of the Knights now that there is no Camelot?

I am not a hero, I do not work for any pay. I will never perform in a grand theater, but what I do is important anyway. Whether laying  bricks to bring clean water or teaching someone how to plant a field, I give my all to what I do. There are no medals for what I give nor do I ask any accolades. My days are often filled with dreary work and I am tired at the end of the day. What I have to offer isn't for sale, it is something money cannot buy. I bring my heart and caring when I volunteer to help others I give of my love my life and my time.

Tears are shed by those who are young and confused. Their world is torn apart, by someone else. They cry for their mothers and fathers, only to be picked up by a passing stranger. Covered in dirt and debris, they do not know what has happened. They were sleeping then their world was rocked by thunder, explosions rattled them to conciseness. While they suffer and cry needlessly, someone declares a victory in the name of their cause. The child doesn't know why two people disagree nor do they care. They only know they are hungry, alone and cold. Because two people cannot agree to disagree and live in peace, perhaps this is why the children cry.

There are many destinations that lay before us. Though some of us may never leave our home town, we will still take many journeys that we do not expect. While others that travel abroad, may only make a few random stops. All of us are on a road trip that is filled with unforeseen twist and turns. All of it is an adventure, despite what we may believe.

Will you open your heart to me, will you give me the keys to your emotional prison? Will you let me be the one to teach you how to trust again? Will you let me get to know the person inside of you? Will you forgive yourself and accept that you did nothing wrong? Will you let me help you begin to heal? Will you accept me for who I am? Will you let me love you?