If ever I forget to say the words
my lips will form “I love you”
If ever my gaze wanders in the distance
my eyes will sparkle “us”
If ever my mind is on a journey
my memories are of Africa
If ever I forget the words
I always love you
A late Valentine for so many who have “lost the words”
On the edge of tomorrow
in the middle of the light
there’s a place of singing
in the day and the night
by the waters edge
no need to be alone
a cathedral of the ocean
a crustacean’s home
where all are welcome
no formality here
wear sand in your shoes
seaweed in your hair
God has created a beautiful world for us to enjoy. The celebration does not have an end date. Not with Christ. The Cross took the expiration date away.
So let us enter into this holiday season with Thanksgiving, grateful hearts and admiration for the love of Jesus.
As he walked back to the church with a small bag representing all of our belongings, my husband exhaled. Had he looked up, he would have seen the sickly Xanthic (yellow) hues. No one could look up because of things falling from the sky and who wanted to know that chemicals could be adding to the danger…
Additionallly—He didn’t want to think about the Russian Navy that was once again closing in to the Odessa port. How long? he muttered, a day maybe two?
Exasperated, he set the bag down next to me. He plopped himself down and expressed all the pent- up frustrations of the last several months. He held my hand and I listened as best I could. Occasionally, I squeezed his hand which was as much energy as I could exert.
Olga came over to see if I needed anything and walked out again not wanting to be part of his explosion of feelings.
I don’t know how long it went on but he finally wore himself down and crumpled on my mattress.
“Vlad has taken a trip. You understand.” He said to the men. “Not sure but there was a problem.”
Several of the men were from 1991 and stood up. “We go help!!!”
“No entrance for now.” My husband tried to extinguish their excitement.
“We wait then.” Yevhen said.
“Yes and continue runs to Mariople.” My husband looked in the men’s faces.
“Mariople is like Passage. No entrance.” One of the soldiers spoke up. “Some guys still there.” He waved toward the east.
“They know what to do.” My husband said confidently.
“Yevhen, what do the men do now?” my husband looked at Vlad’s newly appointed leader.
“We rest then go back and find way in.” Yevhen walked to the kitchen to get some food before sleep.
The men followed him.
I laid on my mattress trying not to rattle my brain with all the possible outcomes in Mariople and to add to that on the other side of the Time Portal in 1991.
My husband was reading my mind. “Vlad is a trained warrior and I realized so is Valeria.”
I opened my eyes and mouthed “That sweet girl…”
“Yes, sweet girls are having to exercise great courage as they fight in this war and apparently in the war on the other side of the Portal…”
Impressed with the A to Z challenge and the letter X.
the last sun’s rays
on the edge of night
no words to say
beauty held through time
drum beat in my head
oars point toward home
freeze this frame
this dream I hold
***
Uganda Panorama
sounds merge equator heat
catch the tide
But I have a name
I had to hide it
under guilt and shame
my father first
than another
the men in the village
more than trouble
i dont have a child
but most of us do
my life starts over
it’s what i choose
skills and school
than add a trade
reset my life
“Em when are we going to be able to take our masks off?” “Drag I don’t know they are a bother aren’t they?” “YES. There is no opening for pizza and you know how much I love pizza.” “Silly dragon. You can take your mask off when you eat.” “I can?” “Yes and when you […]
Dragon Mask #raisingadragon #Covid — Dragon Tails and Scales
always powerful expression from this gifted artist…
“I was a child soldier stolen from my tribe and forced to learn to shoot a gun. They played tricks on our minds. My wife was made to be their slave– to do whatever the soldiers wanted. God was miraculous– I was rescued before I ever was made to kill another person.” My jaw wanted […]
In The Midst of … #9/11 #crisis #suffering — We Go Fish
deep in thought
too many lives to count
wings of gratitude
Thankful for lives that have made the sacrifice for freedom. Please enjoy more of Steven Slack's work here.
Again WordPress changes to a new form when the original form was the most user friendly. Now we rely on less that says it gives us more. Ha. I’d rather learn code than learn which button I have to press to get to another button to then hit a cursor to then type my name. And code was more dfificult (that was autocorrect)?????? Nope just a learning curve.
WordPress I have been loyal to you for 10 years because let’s face it you have the best offering however you aren’t the only game in town.
Learning to live by the indwelling life of Christ.
Gud skaper noko nytt ved sitt Ord og sin Ande, vi kan ta imot det i tru og få oppleve at han gjer sitt verk med oss. Hans skaparkraft verkar konstuktivt i våre liv og skaper noko som er verdifullt for oss. Naturkreftene verkar nedebrytande, i fylgje entropilova, men Gud er Ånd og det som er født av hans Ande består. Jesu frelsesverk er fullbrakt og fullkome. Han er den siste Adam, som er ifrå himmelen og som for oss har vorte ei livgjevande ånd. Han gjev oss den Heilage Ande frå himmelen av berre nåde. Han gjev oss det evige livet.
Looking ahead, without looking back (too often)
Thanks for following a cowgirl on her crazy life journey.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. - Edgar Allan Poe
Hoping to make the world more beautiful
Books by author Diana Coombes
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
my humanity in written form
Experiments in Creative Writing, and more ....
Poetry by Mich
FOR READERS AND ASPIRING WRITERS
Everyday musings ....Life as I see it.......my space, my reflections and thoughts !!
From Board Books to Clean YA
Cherishing the Past while Celebrating the Present
FROM ONE PARENT TO ANOTHER
Living life with dissociative identity disorder and complex ptsd
penned in moon dust 