|Posted by firstname.lastname@example.org on January 23, 2022 at 7:00 PM||comments (1)|
Tears spill when words cannot, and sometimes they wash away the words that you would have rather not thought anyway.
|Posted by email@example.com on August 13, 2019 at 9:50 AM||comments (9)|
Advice from a Frog.
In the glow of the campfire, I adjusted my eyes to see the reality of what I thought I was imagining. Two little eyes were staring back at me.
It was a frog. A little frog had hopped into the firepit and was shivering under a log.
Attempting to move the flames away from him, I hoped he would jump out of the pit. He did not.
I knew I could not stick my own hand in or I would be burnt, so I pondered what to do as he retracted further into the pit behind some cardboard.
I told him to get out but his eyes just blinked at me. We stared at each other for a minute, then I quietly said a prayer that God's will be done, knowing whatever happened was not my fault. I could only do so much.
If it were a child, I obviously would grab the hose to extinguish the flame.
I thought to myself, "It's just a frog. What am I suppose to do? I can't just extinguish this fire to save it." So many people were enjoying the fire, roasting marshmallows, relaxing and sharing community.
I questioned if I should I make a scene. My mind repeated, "It is just a frog".
Instantly I thought of Prince Charming...he was once a frog wasn't he? The story of the Frog and the Princess came to mind, and I imagined some girl losing her prince charming. I grabbed a stick and poked the cardboard sending it flying over the flames.
The frog paused, his eyes looking at me for a split second before he hopped away and out of the firepit.
He landed in the gravel below the rocks surrounding the flames,. He paused again and turned his head at me and said, "I should have looked before I leaped into that pit. I assumed it was a safe place but it was too hot for me. I like to swim and splash in the water. Fire is no laughing matter, thank you for giving me room to move, to feel safe, and to live longer."
One lucky prince is free and he made quite an impact on me.
|Posted by firstname.lastname@example.org on August 8, 2019 at 9:30 AM||comments (9)|
RED ROSE REFLECTION- from The Life of a Florist
A man bought those flowers, paid cash and asked to be anonymous. He was a friend he said. A friend of hers from high school. He knew she was an addict. He always found her attractive and would have liked to maintain a relationship with her but she chose the drugs over him.
Heartbroken, he went on his way and had a successful life in all he did, but always felt like a failure for not being able to help her. Now he was helping, decorating her lonely memorial service with multiple floral designs.
Her daughter wondered where they came from, as she sat alone in the room with her mother's ashes. Someone loved her mother besides just her, and the drug dealers and the drugs. The daughter mourned with the few friends she made from AA. Friends who once witnessed her stand before them week after week announcing she was back on track, even though she hadn't had a successful weekend without a drink.
She wanted to. She had good intentions. Each week she pleaded for her sobriety and addiction to be in control but it controlled her. She died in her sleep.
Her daughter discovering her in the morning laying in her own vomit and covered with track marks. Booze wasn't opened a gate to so much more for her.
She passed away alone, leaving her only daughter more alone.
At the memorial service, there were no words said. No words could bring her back. There was no mentions of any love for her daughter.
The flowers stared back as Kristina questioned her mother's love and actions. The drugs took her mother and now all that is left is an urn on the table with a photo of her leaning next to it. And flowers, so many flowers. No card accompanied these flowers. No sign of where they came from but the fragrance was amazing, and the colors so bright.
Red roses burst with within the mix of lilies, and carnations, and snap dragons. Oh how Mom loved snap dragons; often stopping to admire the neighbor's garden.
Kristina remembered recieving a red rose once from her mom. It was high school graduation day. She stood up and took a rose out of one of the bouquets. Pressing it against her nose, she inhaled her sorrow.
There would be no burial plot for mom she thought. She could not afford that. Kristina took her home where her urn sit on the mantle. The rose dried up next to her.
Some nights Kristina yells at her. Some nights she cry silently asking, "Why?"
She don't know who her father is. IShe don't have any siblings. No cousins to call her own, and well her grandparents disowned their own daughter after she destoryed their house, their savings, and their sanity.
Kristina wanted to be with her mom. Her mom made it right, the state allowed her custody. Things looked good, she got a job and taught Kristina to work too. They split the rent.
Now Kristina is all alone, needing a roommate for more than just not wanting to be alone. There is this guy, he might want in, but she is afraid he wants more than just a room.
She is afraid and alone, and broke with only this home. Mom placed her drink on that mantle and now all that is there is what the drinks didn't take of her.
Two years have passed and now Kristina carries her own daughter within her womb. Understanding how much her mother loved her, for she refused to abort her. For over twelve years they were a team, until that guy impressed with her more than a kiss. He gave a sip, then she begged for more and more. Now she's gone, and Kristina can't have more.
Kristina's guy didn't impress her with a drink, he carefully created a shrine for her mother. He remained thankful that she made Kristina who she is. His arms welcomed Kristina, and his knee asked for more.
Kristina said yes knowing he loved all of her. The lonely, the scared, the mad, and the scarred. She felt his love growing inside of her and realized it was a part of her mother too. A part of goodness she was which faded away when she died.
Kristina silently whisperd to the urn, "Thank you mom for bringing me into this world. I am not mad at you for leaving, but the why and how is what makes me cry. I was never lonely when I was with you. Now I am without you, and I look at your shrine and pray for your love to shine down on us."
At that moment, the stars on the Christmas tree twinkled with a glow that led Kristina's to the picture tucked under the urn. She had put it there on a dark angry night, refusing to look at her face.
She lifted the urn, and hugged the faded photo. With a light kiss to her fingers, she touched it onto the urn.
Her husband walked in, wrapped his arms around Kristina and gently rubbed her belly. Kristina leaned the photo against the urn.
A month later, their daughter was born, and when they arrived home, Kristina's husband had two gifts for her. One was a small portrait of mom that he commissioned a painter to paint, framed and displayed next to her urn. The other was a red rose.
|Posted by email@example.com on February 10, 2017 at 10:45 PM||comments (55)|
Did you know when you die, your problems remain?
Not health problems, but whatever the issues you didn't deal with.
They remain to be solved by you. But how?
The answer my friend is in the love that you shared.
The love you received and the love you become.
So don't procrastinate, live your life and find peace with your abilities.
If you can't have peace, know it is the same in heaven.
The truth is that being on good terms with people while in body, allows you the easiest transition to live your life fully in spirit and with spirit.
Have no worry about peace in spirit. In heaven there is peace. Peace as you melt into the oneness of creation.
Yet those in body still will remember you and remember if you had peace while on earth and peace with them.
Wish yourself peace on earth this day and always.
How will you find peace? It begins in your heart.
Through Accepting yourself, others and the world. And trusting that acceptance doesn't always mean believing in certain values.
Acceptance gives you peace. Peace to know you don't have to be judge, jury, or the change.
Peace allows you to follow your heart to know all are created with the intention to be exactly who they are.
Perfection for them may not be perfect for you, but the grass is only greener when you care for your world.
Your world is the world. Make it better by choosing to accept, love, and be kind to all.
|Posted by firstname.lastname@example.org on January 1, 2017 at 3:25 AM||comments (11)|
There is no time to waste passing judgement, or always trying to please someone, or needing approval.
Yes there are rules and guidelines to learn in order to live peacefully, and healthily, and happily.
Being a good person allows you the right to enjoy life.
You know what is right for you.
Don't worry about what is right for others.
Living judgement free and honoring people for who they are is the first step.
The remaining steps after that bring joy, happiness and extreme experiences of living life fully.
Only when you smile, you are living joy.
Only when you love, you are living life.
Love yourself first so you will have love to give.
Love the gift of life so you will know what a gift it is for all!
|Posted by email@example.com on December 21, 2016 at 3:20 AM||comments (50)|
When you aren't happy with yourself, you focus on what needs to be changed.
The real act isn't that you need to change, its that you need to discover who you are.
It's the discovery that you are accepting and knowing you are perfect.
God made you to be. You are the same person you were born to be.
Ever developing, ever evolving, and always acceptable to be you!
Use that authenticity to always be you in the best form.
Love the world, create happy moments, and bring "good news".
It is the season to remember to take time to celebrate all the good news.
The best news is that you were born to be you and you are still doing that job well.
No one else can do it but you.
|Posted by firstname.lastname@example.org on December 18, 2016 at 1:05 PM||comments (389)|
Some people search their whole life for a four leaf clover.
Looking for a sign.
Looking for Hope. Looking for Peace.
Often they just need a little olive branch.
Some people know that finding a clover is a blessing.
Providing a message. Providing an answer to a prayer.
It brings them love and the feeling not alone.
Some people wish upon a star fearful to surrender to their heart.
Protecting their love. Protecting themselves of the heartache of giving themselves to another.
Some people learn that with an open mind, others are there.
Compassionate, and clearly caring, extending their ear to share in the gift of friendship.
Some people want to say thank you to the four leaf clover.
Knowing the blessing in its beauty. Knowing the blessing that friendship is real.
The gift to discover is all friendship is like a four leaf clover. Find and keep the ones meant for you.
|Posted by email@example.com on December 17, 2016 at 10:45 PM||comments (9)|
A Christmas Gift to the Holy Spirit...
In thanksgiving for the collateral beauty that life has. (And yes, I saw the movie on opening night, and it was amazing! Highly recommend it. I share in its message for it is so real!)
The author in me needs to take a moment for this reflection post. To tell part of my story as a thanksgiving to spirit, for I know how real it is.
Thank You Spirit for the blessing of meeting beautiful souls, especially Ashley Marie Guindon, Lisa Ziegert, and Andrea Borsari, whose presence in the world became a presence to my soul after their earthly life was over.
It is Christmas time, a time to be joyful and not mourn. So in celebration, I am joyful to remember Jesus's birth. For without his life, I would never come to understand either of yours.
Ashley, Lisa and Andrea's spirits were taken from their earthly bodies just as Jesus. And still, they remain in my presence so often.
I am honored to have gotten to know you all, and share parts of our journey together.
The gift of Spirit is one that many fear sharing, as I do on many occasions, however just as Jesus enlightened the world, so you do too.
Everything unfolds at the right time, and as intended. So with that faith, I share these words with those in need of knowing God's love is real.
Miss Ashley was a girl, a brother in blue, a friend, a daughter, and a neighbor that I never knew. We never met face to face until the day of her Acension. Her spirit, friendship, and guidance remains a gift that I humbly and cautiously embrace. The sorrows she endured and the pain that her passing brought touched so many during her life. I cannot explain why she came to me but with heartfelt sorrow, I welcomed her.
Some dreams are dreams, and some dreams become reality. The words that were written, spoke to me then, and now. They directed the path I was to take. Even today, with Spirit allowing her, her guidance unfolds in my life with gifts of enlightenment. The magic in the air surrounding ones passing may come and go, and when loneliness sets in, there are moments of isolation that allows the loss to feel all too real. And it is. It is real.
In His Spirit, they share with me, that the love that surrounds them from our Heavenly Father can be most compared to the comfort a newborn feels as they cuddle into their mothers arms, melting into her heartbeat, and remembering that they were once one.
We are all one with the Spirit of God, part of creation, a heartbeat within nature. That is the Spirit which I know carried Ashley safely to heavens where she will wait for us all. It is the same Spirit that carries all our loved ones. And they will wait, for time is not as we know it, and so we need not hurry, they will wait.
As I mentioned in other poems, we yearn to be reunited but we must commit to live our lives with fulfillment until our name is called. Spirit is a word to encompass the love of God. In Spirit, I know there is protection, guidance, and encouragement in so many ways.
I attempt to follow their advice, but I am merely human. Ashley is an angel, A Guide. A Beautiful Spirit. (If I followed her encouragement, I would be in boot camp everyday...she is much stronger than me. A role model, a friend, and angel with a duty to restore peace.)
Lisa needed peace. Not for herself, but for allher loved ones. And Andrea wanted to share her peace. All three taken too soon from this earthly plane.
It is my honor, my duty, and my "call" to be a friend to them and to all.
Some things can be called coincidences, but some moments are more. From Ashley's roses, to her friends, to her Mother's embrace, to my own hesitation, and her Dad's embrace. She has graced me face to face and displayed her badge of honors. Her sincere smile brings both fun and fierceness. These are just a few of the gifts she has shared with me.
Ashley has exemplified what "call of duty" is, not only in her life, but in others, and in mine. As a florist, I know my job, my call, my talent, but on a spiritual path, she reminds me of my duty, my free will and my gift. I thank her for giving me the gentle push and reminding me that I am also a writer of Spirit's word. I must share. By sharing, others may find comfort, and I may grow confident; for when God knocks, I will always answer.
There are those whose presence in the world becomes a presence in your soul after death; encouraging life's journey abundantly.
|Posted by firstname.lastname@example.org on November 11, 2016 at 7:10 AM||comments (2)|
Service is a gift all are born with.
Service is an act all could give.
Service is an action served in many different ways.
Personal reflection honors the highest good.
Public reflection honors mankind in the highest.
Serving others is respectful.
Respectful of creation.
Respectful of life.
Respectful of death.
Serving nurtures, protects, guides, honors, respects, and above all teaches.
We serve as family, friends, and humans.
There are many that dedicate their life in public service.
They took action and followed through.
They honored an oath.
They have given their life, all of it.
Today especially, there is a call from the deepest part of our hearts.
To thank, to cherish, and to appreciate their dedication.
Being called to the line of duty is powerful.
Answering the call is courageous.
Serving the call is brave.
|Posted by email@example.com on October 14, 2016 at 12:05 AM||comments (1)|
Tears spill when words cannot.
Sometimes they wash away the words that you would have rather not thought anyway.
Sometimes they wash away the questions we have. And Always they restore us.