Scenes of Florida's Decline

WAITING

Do You have a home for me?
www.SPCAsuncoast.org

Chevrolet

The first day of Summertime

Last Saturday, I had the honor of meeting a baby boy, 3 months old. He was wrapped in swaddling clothes, with his arms held snugly to his chest. He lay in his stroller, his oxygen tube taped to his little nose, obscuring his features. Other tubes snaked alongside him, draining the hole in his skull that failed to close before birth, and wicking away his wastes. He struggled with the cloth that bound him, seeming desperate to move, if even just a little.
His Daddy and Mommie were there at the bar, too. Every so often, they would stroll over to glance at him where he lay, washed in the flashing lights of the amusement game that was there.  The kind you put in quarters for the kids to try to hook or grab a plush toy. Through the smoke, the lights made a kind of eerie, sarcastic glow on the boy...He would probably never survive.

The struggles had been great, for the parents. They had suffered every day, seeing the baby born with so much wrong. Visiting in the hospital. They deserved their night out with friends, they said. The baby was fine, he's breathing entirely in his own environment, they said. He smiled, and sung Kareoke. So did The Mommy.

 This was the song I didn't dare to sing that night. A lull-a-bye for the baby boy who might never see an open field of flowers, might never swing in a tire, or throw a ball. It's a fantasy tale of grief and belief in the benevolence of God, when Life seems so grave, that lies are the kindest gift to give.

Rollins Band - Liar

Ripples of Life

we know not when the light will fade

we know not when the light will fade


so stand not hiding in the shade

go out, look up - enjoy the gifts

that God has placed up in the sky

for you to see.

it was my distinct pleasure to drive

last night at sunset, a brilliant pink

devouring the daylight. i paused to

marvel at the colors, the palette of which

we have no access. we are afterall, merely human.



then as the show faded into night, the Hunger Moon

replaced the west with east, the day with night

and the show continued. Hunger Moon hung low,

luminescent and huge. it bid good-bye to the day, and

heralded the beginning of night. the last for some,

i wondered who would not begin tomorrow; I?

no better day or night could i imagine, the brillant pink

and the luminecsent gold.



i pondered my life, my meaning, my impact. Good?

i surmised that we, mere humans can not control the

time or place. our ending is unknown. (and those who

do -- determine the end -- would surely steal the Will

of God from Him: doing so must certainly be a breach

of the covenant with Us for the gift of Life itself....)

no, we must not choose the time, or place, or manner of our

Death..we only have a right to choose its meaning.

Dream

Bamboo

Pattern your life after the bamboo. The exterior, though smooth and lovely to the touch is strong and resistant to the sword. Within, it is soft, pliable, with much empty space for continued growth. It grows neatly, and ordered, never cluttered. Alone, it rises tall and straight, always upward to the sky. There, it spreads its beauty to the sun. It leans on nothing. It makes its own way, perhaps near others, a part of others, but very much independent upon its own strength and force. So pattern your life.