This, our precious planet,. Whose seasons I knew well,. Protects itself from us,. Outside the wind bellows,. And the rooftops quiver,. From weather now altered,. To voice a discontent,. The degree to which I,.

Yet, underneath it all, the broken heart, the jaded heart still beats. Song of the Thorn Bird. Saturday, August 14, 2010. Slow, synchronized to the beating of shared heart. Grasp the last stolen moment before it takes flight. Each gazes into the depths of the other. Tear-stained, caressed before gentle exit.

My pet dragon and his best friend Emily insisted. Look up there, one of the students pointed. Is it safe for these children.

It Happens in Chesterfield Musings from One Born and Bred. This place I reside is my town to me. Deciding to take ownership only means that I will be committed to caring and establishing my place within in her for she can never be truly owned. She has withstood battles and risen from the ashes of historical fires. She has borne soldiers, lovers, doctors, lawyers, enemies and allies yet her greatest deliverance has been her ability to bear friends. Her unity should never be about uniformity for her divers.

Flowing blood rivers giving life to human form. Streaming nutrients, oxygen and cleansing properties of the body. Personal and collective choices invade the purity of human existence. Changing the colors to a terminal necrotic state of the human form. Life is more than human form, a cosmic spirit. It is a breath of life undisturbed by time or space.

I attempted to get back to sleep but it was impossible to do so. So rather than wrestle with anxiety and be bombarded with thoughts, I decided to get up and talk to the Lord about it. So what is going on I asked? Why is it that I can not sleep in peace? Our Weapons are Mighty in God.

Talk to you soon,.

Weekly Visual Clues Inspire Short Vignettes. Weekly Visual Clues Inspire Short Vignettes. Scroll down through previous posts to get the full story! Sunday, August 8, 2010. Where did he go? Down there. I have to take these pumps off. He was taking notes again. Well, you know what must be done. You are such a cramp.

Whisper in my ear your sweet tales of yesterday. Show me your roots and the soil fom which you came. Tell me of your battles and the scars you were dealt;. Did you win any of these? Are you still fighting? Give me a glimpse into your world,. I want to know your reality whilst I escape from mine. Show me the real depth of your soul;.