MY CAR DOOR LOCK CLICKER, THING, AND MY DREAMS As I walked away from my car toward my chiropractor’s office, I was holding my car door lock clicker thing at my chest. I clicked it and the horn sounded on …
IN MY INNOCENCE As a child growing up on the farm in South Georgia, the words miracle and miraculous did not come up in conversation as I recall, but I certainly knew their meaning for it was steadily penetrating me …
LIFE —- POETRY AND RAGE Life is a voracious spirit raging through an infinity of forms and time. It is a raging fire consuming everything in sight, moment by moment. It is a pretender to reasonableness, but will persist as …
HUMILITY AND A BLIND DATE Many authorities on humility say that when you think you have it, you just lost it. That’s when you need a good humility default position to convincingly bring you down from your high horse to …
THE BLOODSTREAM OF AMERICA I was standing in my back yard this morning in the cold, crisp, dry air, and I could hear the steady droning sound of the interstate being magnified just a mile across the woods from my …
WHEN YOU LOVE SOMEONE Once there was a young frog who lived in a pond across the road from the home of a young man named George. George loved Elvis Presley and late in the day, he loved to take …
SCARS AND FOREGIVNESS I was poking through the back corner of my garage today and came across an old scared up wooden table I’ve had forever. As I ran my hands over the table and traced the scars with my …
n the Christian Bible, God is asked in Psalm 8:4, “What is man that thou art mindful of him?” That was a very valid question at that time and an even more valid question today when we consider how much …
ASK ANY SEED I ask the seed, “Why do you sprout and grow”? And the seed said, “I have no choice, I am a seed”. I ask the earth, ”Why do you produce this endless supply of animals and plants”? …
THE SOLE AUTHOR OF DREAMS Big dreams are the building blocks of civilizations, But the stumbling blocks of fools. Big dreams are the blueprints of empires; But in the end only fading prints in the sands of time. Are we …