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.
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.
“The part of me that pains the most
also gets me out of bed…”
The memory of all He’s done
so little I have to dread
without your hope there is nothing left
no sky, no hills, no sea
But with the loving knowledge I hold
None can break the will in me
Look up behold His nail pierced hands
no longer on that tree
the Lord sent on a servant’s deed
He came and rescued me
You men of terror
I shed a tear
You score your life with death
my savior rules with love divine
you are lost eternally bereft
“The part of me that pains the most
also gets me out of bed…”
The victory in all He’s done
I am not afraid of death
“I find God in the suffering eyes reflected in mine. If this is how You (God) are revealed to me, this is how I will forever seek You.” Kayla Jean Mueller (a martyr at the hands of ISIS)
You have probably heard of the senseless death of Kayla Jean Mueller- be inspired by her faith and her victory.
This poem is inspired by the last letter that her parents received from women that were released who shared a cell with Kayla. The italicized words are her own.
You can read her letter here.
Kayla is not the only martyr in this reign of terror. Be strong and courageous for the days are filled with evil…
“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”
John 10:10
“When hard pressed, I cried to the Lord; He brought me into a spacious place.
The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?
The Lord is with me; he is my helper. I look in triumph on my enemies.”
Psalm 118:5-7
“If God is for us who can be against us?”
Romans 8:31
Today marks the 13th year anniversary of 9/11. Can we forget the horrific footage of planes banking into their final approach as they attacked the Twin Towers in New York City? Can survivors ever forget the confusion and fear as they felt the impact and the buildings shook. How difficult was it to find an avenue of escape when the air was poisonous and thick?
I have close friends who are survivors and they relive the maze of the Pentagon over and over. They ask “WHY?” Why was I away from my desk? Why was it my co-worker rather than me?” We should never forget this day. It was a day that terror took to the skies and waged war.
I am honored to feature the work of French artist Piere Chalory. The above painting was painted in August 1998. If you look at the photograph of the fractured areas where the planes struck the twin towers, they are really too close for guess work. How did Chalory know? What vision did he see as he went about his normal routine of painting in the abstract world of science fiction? I’m not sure he knows but his work ( a total of 6 paintings) is an indicator of the inevitably of that day.
Please check out the link of Chalory’s 9/11 related work Here.
Tomorrow, I will be sharing more of Chalory’s art. I hope you come back to enjoy his inspirational work.
*****
The painting of the statue of liberty carries a message. I would love to encourage you to write something poetry, prose, reflection or haiku in honor of this day. Please link back to this post so I and others will enjoy your tribute.
Her hands clasped to mine
we walked along autumn’s path
crunching beneath our feet
the remnants of yesterday’s glory
she picked up a leaf
what I thought was dew was a tear
“why do you cry, my love?”
my eyes thoughtful
“life is perishing beneath our feet
we are crushing aged spring
we walk the burial ground of the seasons”
“press this amber leaf against your heart
feel its resonating warmth
hear him tell you his story
let it be a reminder of the past
then welcome the new season
a time for ends and reflection
reach your hands to grasp the snowflakes
purity falls over barren trees
and spring returns to remind us
of that which we have lost
and of that which we might gain”
“another year of this loss?”
I saw her eyes pool
“I don’t think I can bare it”
“but another year of promise as well
life, love and new beginnings
those too will grow in the coming year
one day we will look back
the skeletons beneath our feet
will not sound like death with each step
I will once again look up
and see life blossoming in your eyes”
This week marks the second anniversary of the death of a child in our neighborhood who was tragically swept away by a flash flood The lights represent candles and sentiments that lined the family’s driveway last year. Blue ribbons hang, year round, on our trees, sign posts and mailboxes in memory of this loss..
As I wrote to you these words
tears congealed with blackened ink
this goodbye so hard to write
how I wished I could re-take
*
You went away to war
tore my heart in two
the uniform I sewed
no longer resembles blue
*
A woman fights a war
it’s not with guns and spears
we fight inside ourselves
clinging to what is dear
*
The day I found her lace
I wished it wasn’t so
Perfumed you and adored
it dealt the final blow
*
Tucked beneath her favor
I’m leaving you this note
wrenched from inside you see
our covenant you broke
*
So many times I wished
I’d never seen that thing
for what it made me do
I threw away your ring
*
You wrote to me at length
declared unfailing love
how could you still claim that
with all that had been done
*
On hardened path you did return
a wounded, changed man
stump hidden in your sleeve
I couldn’t grasp your hand
*
The twinkle in those eyes
they still retained that smile
with all that they had seen
over all the bloodied miles
*
I asked about the words
I’d tucked into your shirt
the paper had gone missing
tramped about the dirt
*
I had to brave the lace
you assured that it was gone
no longer fragrant starched
just dirtied torn and brown
*
your crooked smile held back the pain
“I never loved her dear
white favors thrown into the wind
her death ominous and near
*
cannon ball fury pierced the night
she raced injured to save
mercy had all but been undone
we laid her in hollow grave
*
I begged, cried “forgiveness please”
he said ” I owe you none
you are my heart’s strong shielding
a precious gift sent from above”
***
The Daily Post challenge was “Dialogue.” I hope you hear the voices from the past in this poem; a dialogue of pain and hope.
Tomorrow is the 151st anniversary of the bloody battle of Antietam – this a tribute to love, life, and life lost.
Photograph: De la Tour’s “Repentant Magdalene” (from the National Gallery); “The Lost Letter” © L. Moon 2013
Been enjoying these dialogues:
Reliant on memories
we never made
I was young
when laid in the grave
*
Reliant on memories
a girls first kiss
all the loves
that we would miss
*
Reliant on memories
the way I laughed
you’ll always have
don’t hold it back
*
Reliant on memories
a piece of me
will always stay
alive and free
*
Reliant on memories
will have to do
I will live on
because you made it through
***
My poem is in tribute to a poet and heroine Hanna Szenes whose birthday is today.
Hanna a gifted poet was a brave young woman who believed in a cause. On March 1944 she parachuted into Yugoslavia on a mission to help rescue Hungarian Jews about to be deported to Auschwitz. She was caught on the Hungarian border and tortured (by the Germans) with the hope of gaining valuable information. Because she would not give information, they imprisoned her mother as well. While captive, she looked for ways (like a mirror) to send encouragement to fellow prisoners. Hanna was executed in November 1944 by a firing squad and remembered as a heroine of Israel. She was 23 at her death.
These are the words of one of her last poems:
Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame
Blessed is the flame that burns in the secret fastness of the heart.
Blessed is the heart with strength to stop its beating for honor’s sake.
Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame.
.
More about Hannah here.
The lone daisy
reminds me of her sunny smile
tender heart that won mine
The lone daisy
a radiant warmth
embracing love’s time
The lone daisy
shines a cheerful glow
day our son came home
The lone daisy
like a pencil in her ear
kind words for those alone
The lone daisy
picked too soon
death gives no reason
The lone daisy
settles on her grave
we apart for a short season
These words are tearfully written in tribute to a woman (Jaye Lynn) who died much too soon. And for a husband (Chris Wood) who looks for sonshine in the little things.
Photography: Lone Daisy © L. Moon 2013
The ghosts of past wars march forward…
we heard the call
the plodding sound
a thousand boots
to bloodied ground fall
***
“March on”
boys cadenced
in a an old tin song
others called out
“how far how long?”
***
The days and nights
we felt their need
had barely food
no time
urged upon speed
***
we hide away
while they must fight
sabers flash
blue and grey
the colors clash
***
I hear your voice
through early day
sweet farewell plea
“mama I’m coming”
life dearly paid
***
They march on
those soldiers do
reverie’s ghosts
tho for these
the battle’s through
This poem is in Tribute on this Veteran’s Day to the boys who fought in the many wars including the war between the states. We see their ghosts in the battle field mist – still…
Photograph: “Battle Cry” L. Moon copyright 2012
911 a solemn day. Survivors of the World Trade Center and the Pentagon deal with the guilt of leaving the dead behind.
I stand with a lapel pin in my hand
it had stood proudly on a life swept away
A bar of medals lay on the ground
how many heroic deeds did you do?
“mama mama mama”
I heard the echo of a grease covered doll
“I missed my flight “
I heard through misty eyes
“Our copier broke down so I went to another cell”
“We should have been there with the dead” they chorused hand in hand
“What can we do for those who died in our place?”
the survivor’s guilt gnaws raw as each 911 looms
pick up a piece of 911 people
rally around the cause of freedom
look forward
do not let this happen to innocence again
photographs from stock photography and from http://highwindsroom.blogspot.com/2011/03/sometimes.html
This is just one piece written in tribute for 911 http://fragmentsof911.wordpress.com/
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
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With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
my humanity in written form
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