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Anticipation

The night has come.  Whip-poor-wills call through the beautiful cover and comfort of the blanket of darkness now creeping over the long forgotten ones.  The moon is rising, ever so slowly, to shine on all - waiting!  Waiting for spirit's ascending, to gently waft on the cool rhythms of the celestial beams through the willows and pines.  Others, will just weep  for so long ago.  I must leave, lest I be caught up in them.     Sam

Epitaphs

Lichen ladened sentinals to the past, standing proudly for centuries, for those who care to stop a moment; perhaps to ponder and shed a tear for the long forgotten.  Someone like you or me who loved, laughed, hurt and cried.  A slave who toiled from dawn 'til dusk with little food or creature comforts but indeed loved God and family.  Offsprings born into bondage, without hope of being anything other than their master's property.  Ah!  The master's monument!  Loving husband and father, kind master!  Kind master?  Was the author of those words truthful - or just an uninformed, benevolant soul?

Thousands of epitaphs for hundreds of years.    The ladies, the gentlemen,  who were they, what were they?  Love, hate, good , evil - here, there.  What's the differerence?  Did they ever live in confusion? 

Reveries of being then, rather than now - quite curious a thought!  I so, I would be long gone and forgotten!  Alas, I am now and struggle within myself.  I suppose they could have done the same.  What were their outcomes?  Mine not to know - and I know not mine.     Sam

Despair

The rope's end is nearing.

  The other shoe will drop.

  The pendulum slowly swings.

  Back - forth.  Back - forth.

  When will it stop?

  Sam

Confusion

I am a river, churning and bending - just trying to move with the current.  My mind is damned!  How do I flow now?  How do I reach my ocean?  Do I dare to over run my bank?  Do I dare take the chance?  Is this temporary and permanent destruction?  I this the way to my ocean? - Or insanity?     Sam

No Hiding Place

Dear Heavenly Father of all - Your precious Son was the ultimate sacrifice to save my  soul.  The devil is the author of confusion.  Oh Lord - Why is this allowed?  Good - evil.  Love - lust.  Right - wrong.  Kindness - hatred.  Forgiveness - revenge.  Black - white.  There's no middle ground!  None whatsoever!  I plead the Blood.  Forgive my humanities.  Make them humilities.     Sam

Loves' Heart

This day of beauty should be comforting but it is not.  The sun in all its' glory brightly shines and warms my skin, yet I am cold.  My soul screams for truth and life.  My eyes of blue, now are red with salty streams of release and relief.  I hear the gentle music of the leaves as the lakes' breeze sifts through - the chatters of playful squirrels - the shimmering ripples of the cool water.  All calm.  All in peaceful spendor.  Yet - my heart beats with a rhythm of despair.  It cries out for those who feel only with their hearts - until their minds are convinced - this is what love truly is!  It's feeling the  heat of the fire before the match is struck - it's the wonderful scent of rain in the air before the downpour - the water in your mouth as the lemon approaches - the first cry of a newborn!   Where are they?  The hearts of believers of this and more.  Gone perhaps with generations of yesteryear that now sleep in moss covered graves?  Yet - are they just around a sharp, cold corner that peeps into tomorrow?     Sam