The Letter P

As it pertains to life's mysteries...

When contemplating the best way to summarize my current emotional/mental/spiritual state today, I find it difficult to connect my heart and mind in the usual way.  Sometimes words are all that pop into my head, and once spoken the dam that blocks my soul's winding path disintegrates, allowing me to float freely into that comforting space of understanding and hope once more. 

The letter P popped into my head and seeded itself, inspiring me to post, finally a light in the darkness that has seemed to be invading my creative flow.  As I pondered my dilemma I thought of the recent pain I felt at the pretentious, placating practice of polite, political correctness that has permeated everyday conversation and how self-conscious that makes me feel.  Not that I have outwardly been anything otherwise in my entire life, but knowing that judgment and the need to proselytize is paramount to society at large has paralyzed my tongue in many ways. It has had me depressed, feeling repressed and removed from my sense of purpose.  The pain of loss was as great to me as losing some of the people who were my soul allies.  I miss them dearly.  

Their presence in my life was constant and now seems so brief in sharp contrast to the vastness of Eternity.  Yet, when I quiet the panicked voices in my head, the truth that remains patiently waiting in my soul permeates my being, reminding me that the true enemy lies within us all.  While the fear which incites pain, its presence undeniably indelible, promotes discord in my heart and mind, the memories of the people who have always been there for me prevails, lifting me from the grip of such despair.

We have played together and stayed together, the pleasure of their company lifting me to heights they may never truly comprehend.  They have been my portion in this life, promoting my joyous endeavors to push on toward a dream, whatever it might be.  

They are precious, constant and never far from my thoughts. When my mind begins to push, prod, poke and try to evoke the dark agenda of fear, the mere thought of these people are like pieces of the puzzle that is my life; and as I begin to reassemble the lovely images of how we laughed and lived together, I am renewed. Joy is the healer of old wounds, and prayer is the incantation of the soul.

It is impossible to be constantly in step with one another, for we are all evolving, trying to pinpoint our own place in the grand illusion of Life; but this is normal.  It is a part of true growth and necessary to progress emotionally.  The platitudes that have driven us often seem weak, for I have "turned the other cheek" enough times for a multitude of humans. Sometimes we must sit and ponder our differences,,,

while remaining close enough to embrace them in the end, realizing that it is our commonalities which define our connectedness, that when all pretense is cast aside, we are all perfection in the thought of the Creator.  In that moment of true realization the mind is so quiet you can hear a pin drop. The heart sings for the knowing, and showing gratitude becomes as easy as taking the next breath. 

Rejoice!! 

You have climbed one more rung on the ladder to complete understanding, acceptance and hope.  Take pleasure in the sweet perfume that is Peace.  

Consider the possibility of a new moment, be grateful if you are not penniless. Pick up a pen and scribble your thoughts, your whims, ideas, worries and dreams.  Choose the delights of your heart and the sweet memories of a life well lived...

and put away the armor you have girded your soul with.  One cannot escape the road to destiny, but must plod onward if there is to be change; and change is inevitable.  It will find us all.  How much more joy is there in understanding life's purpose than putting off our lessons.  The lowliest of God's creatures understand this as they persevere, making homes of bottle caps, crossing perilous highways and accepting that they don't know what the next step brings.

I find true peace in the understanding that we are never alone.  The sun rises and sets each day as a reminder of Creation's constant abidance and abundance.  

I plan to find something pretty today, to remind me how perfect this life is.  How about you, my friend? It all began with a dream...

How about a bit of Patrick Park?  I love this one.  

Well This is a Fine Mess..

Please remove my image from all associated advertisements. I am resigning my role as the country’s National Emblem. I am regal, I am a Hunter but never take more than I need. I live in accordance with the natural order of Existence. There is no duplicity in Nature. With no voice we cannot lie but our eyes see the truth. Once we sought to be more like humans and were envious of their accomplishments. Now we face extinction and have no one to blame but those who were put here to protect us, to keep order and balance on this world. Their ‘intellect’ has become ignorance at its worst to not realize that what they control is only one another. Nature will always find a way....

Silent Watching....

The elders watched from the precipice of destruction,

stoic, unmoved in their constant vigil,

feeling mildly perturbed

by it all.

The ancient one shivered against the untimely chill

that had crept insidiously over the season,

forcing his tribe to take to the skies

all too soon, seeking warmth-

sustenance.

The Great Hunter finished the remains of its meal

wondering when the last kill would be

as the Keepers pushed further in,

stripping away the vestiges of

their life’s blood.

They bowed their heads in reverent shame for

such disregard of their Mother’s world,

their chirping drowned by the clamor

of progress, the cacophony

maddening.

She made them stewards of her Creation,

they hold her Essence in their hands,

delicate, brilliant, mighty, precious!

How could they betray her trust

for gold dust?

Can they not see the universe in a grain of sand,

feel her breath in the rush of the wind,

see her artistry painted across the 

canvas of a blue sky in the 

rainbow after a storm?

Her children remain hopeful in their quest

for new awakening, their message plain 

to the loyal who choose to see it

etched on their faces-

“Her heart is breaking..”

What is written on the shores of time for

this human race, then, as it spins itself

wildly into eventual extinction,

guided not by love decreed

but stark, unbridled greed?

Words of shame and empty dreams lay

 broken, fading under a remorseless sun

as Creation toils to rebuild itself

as it is loathe and wont to do-

again and again.

The sun rises and sets

as Nature weeps

for what was lost

awaiting eventuality...

for they understand they are the true Keepers,

the constant, faithful, vigilant

unrelenting survivors

that honor the

 dream...

The simple, hopeful thought to not be alone

within the vastness of Eternity

that became an idea of 

the expansion

of Love.

How can we, the Keepers

of the Creator’s original thought

betray such a gift? 

The Trickster speaks,

your mind he seeks

to have and hold

next to his gold

while the hell

He creates

festers and waits

to be fed

with the dead

flesh he vowed

 with head bowed 

to the lie.

Look up!

Reach for the Light

within plain sight

and live! 

CKP words and photos

2020

Let’s hope so, Bob.....click the link for his message to you..oo..oo....

https://youtu.be/zaGUr6wzyT8

Be sure to stop off for a beer and conversation over at Dan Antion’s Place 

And please don’t be silent. We love comments! 

Bird Days

One of the best things about living in Central Florida is the wildlife. Some days that is the best thing. 😉

For me, any day I connect with Nature is a perfect one. The most rewarding moments are the  unexpected ones, those times when a projected idea falls short, leading to a moment of pure brilliance! 

We took a drive to get my haircut; and, as always, my journeys must be combined with some kind of fun. We tried to make a detour to the Big Tree park to visit some very old tree friends but road construction made that impossible; so we made our way slowly towards my hair appointment while taking small detours to check out the local nature hangouts. There is a lot of water in Florida and lots of man made lakes. On our last stop, with only 30 minutes to spare, we hit the jackpot! There, swimming, flitting, flying and feeding on the lake were not one, not two, but half a dozen of our favorite birds! They were most happy to pose for me too. I hope you enjoy the photos and that your weekend has been filled with nice surprises. 

Great Blue Heron

Even more lovely in flight.

So contemplative...

Great Egret

The ancient and wise looking Wood Stork.

This little guy is a bonus, not as commonly seen. I love the Tri Colored Heron. 

After my new do, we headed to find food and drink on the recommendation of my stylist. He really knows the local food and didn’t steer us wrong. 

So delicious! 

The craft beer selection was amazing as well, with dozens to choose from. 

Color me happy! Now, I can face a new week. 

My Soul is a Tomb

My Soul Is a Tomb

My soul is a tomb-

moldy bones of contention

litter the dusty floors 

and congregate in the

murky shadows to avoid

the shards of filtered light

that steal through the gilded

windows, their arches softly

contrasting the hard lines of

mortar and cold stone. 

The faint strains of a waltz

hang on the stale air like

a fog drifting across the

stormy sea of destiny.

My soul is a prison

where cave dwellers make fire

to roast the flesh of dragons

slain by knights on ivory steeds

deep within the forest of lands

ruled by fairies with 

pixie slaves that live among

the thorns of the rose garden

where children in crips linen

dresses and brown britches

play hide and seek with 

gray wolf cubs that venture

into the daylight while their

parents sleep off the night's 

successful run with the red

blood of the farmer's dog  

staining their tongues as they

dream of being eagles.

My soul is a highway

paved with yellow brick,

lined with bright poppies in

shades of crimson, lavender, magenta

to soothe the senses of weary travelers

on their journey from rough hewn

cradle to the quiet shadows of

their final rest.  

They amble and trot, skip, jump,

race, fall, dance, trip and crawl

towards the promised land where

hand in hand they stand to face

the final judgment.

My soul is a legend 

of hunters, servants, kings

and jokers, dancers, builders,

bakers, forsakers and breakers

of hearts, of saints and sinners,

losers and winners, creating each

life with new vigor, new hope, new

understanding and a vow to make 

the next journey more complete 

than the last-without error,

leaving terror of the past behind

liked shreds of colored paper

to litter the road of memory 

with bright distraction-such

attraction impossible to deny

and so begin again..

and again...

For the prison can be breached

and the highway paved with gold

while the legend will be told in the 

etching on the walls within the 

tomb.

CKP Words and Images Copyright

2020