This morning is bright and crisp, I do not know whether it is winter
or spring. It has been an unusual winter, a lot of rain, not much snow.
The trees are still bare.
I finally know who my Morningstar Angel is. This young lady in Kentucky
(Kentucky Angel) is a nurse here in this hospital where Laurel works.
She lived in a commune out west in the sixties, she lives a simple life
with honest values. At first glance when you see her, you see an angel
and then you realize that she is human.
I heard Lenny Kravitz say that he plays rock and roll music of the
sixties because we have still not heard the message of those songs.
Carlos Santana is a bridge across the generation of gaps.
A deep purple emotion, a turbulent feeling twisting like a vine to the points of my finger
tips. A deep good feeling of swelled up music, an emotion to dance too. That is the
essence of good music.
The river is high, not quite so violent, it is starting to fall.
Laurel said hello to a tormented young women and eased a lot of pain
at work. She crossed a bridge and helped a young women in need. She did
it as part of her job at work.
She added a human element to a sterile environment. Thanks Laurel.
Not to Intense
Performing tasks for the people. Sometimes you want to perform tasks
for yourself. You do not want to perform tasks for the people. How do I
discriminate between what is for me and what is for the people? What
logic explains the lines of reason to differentiate the two. I have no
clue as to why this thought crept into my mind, but it did this morning.
It is crisp out this morning, the colors of the earth are a little more
Somewhere between the city and the jungle, this small conservative
Southern values, guns, chemicals and farm trucks. We sometimes wonder
why were here?
It is more relaxed here, not so fast, not so intense.
Sting is Singing
Sting is singing in the background, the rain is falling out in the
yard. The weather has cooled, the wind is from the chilly north. This
wooden roof keeps me dry. This simple life we live among the spires
of wealth. This simple life we live among the splendors of edifice.
This simple life we live among the complications of minds. This simple
life we live among the technology of machines. How do we maintain our
health/mind with this wealth of humanity, our flowers of fragrance,
with the doves that fly as symbols of peace.
We maintain because we know the fragile empire of our mind, our
body and our soul.
Eli is coming home the end of this month, he has traveled across the
pacific ocean under water in a cage of steel with one hundred other men.
A Letter to a Friend
Were they paddling or were the peddling.
Rowing across the seas, blue steel waves are forced into the air by the
wind and current.
We attach our children on the top of bombs, then light the fuse and
blast them into space.
Writing words on paper, repeating my self in the process. I get a day
older, but I still try to renew my youth. My constant struggle to
prolong my life as age, wind and abrasion wear at my body and soul.
I want to see these words in tomorrow’s morning paper,
"The fountain of youth is found." I guess I am no different from any
one else, constantly looking for new friendships, the miracle elixir to
cure all ills. I have no clue to what we lose.
Though I see life in the butterflies.
Every moment is a view, an open window of sight. We see the moment as we view though
our eyes. We always forget the moment by days end. But when we awake in the morning
we are reminded of the moment.
We view and feel the world with our eyes. The ups and downs of life cycles. We view and
feel the warmth that surrounds other creatures. We view and feel the cold and the warmth
The Hardy Souls of Winter
This young lady that we know, lived in the mountains of Colorado in the
late sixties and early seventies. She lived in a cabin with her husband.
She said that they would have to prepare for the winter all year long.
Not missing on any chore. The winters there were not for the weak of
heart. Death was always on the doorstep. Without heat or food you were
doomed. Being well planned for winter was a necessity.
We have all heard of Cabin Fever. I try to imagine what that would be
like. Some of us social creatures that love to be around other people
most of the time may have a problem with being limited with just a few
folks. Being confined to a certain area sounds like a major problem for
certain individuals. Our attitudes toward life may swing, as the weather
does, dangerously close to nonexistence in those situations.
Some of us are not meant to live that life style, we may want to live
that way out of necessity, but we learn as time goes on that this is not
the way for us. Too many emotional extremes.
The folks at Tolstoy Farm are a hardy bunch.
The reason for writing this is that I want you to know that everyone
cannot live on a commune that is so emotionally intense and cold in the
winters. Some of us cannot handle the emotional intensities of cabin
Give us a chance in our warmer abode.
Speak to us, and warm our mothers heart.
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