Snow Deer

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Tracks stitched into the snow
cold icy trails
traces of what went by
in the depths of the night

Frozen marks of life
linear and stark
upon the gleaming white
layered one upon the other

Five deer passed by
unseen, yet still remain
their prints upon the snow
inscribed deeply

Traces of night life
on a lifeless winter ground
the wandering tracks
of deer seeking food

now and then they cross together
wander and undulate
one track upon the other
hinting of desperation

New Years Revolutions

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This year I made no New Year’s Resolutions. I try to keep them, good intentions and all, but find myself breaking more than one. Most often they are far to lofty and unattainable. So this year I’m changing it up. Instead of trying to keep my own resolutions, I am challenging us all to start a revolution…not the combative war kind, but a mass change for the good that starts with small gestures we can each make…easily, to change our world for the better.
Here are a few suggestions we can all do during our day, small acts of kindness or courtesy that may, when multiplied by them being repeated by the many, could change our world.
-Greet a stranger on the street, smile, be polite.
-Recycle and reuse whenever and whatever you can.
-Help someone out, hold the door open for them, pick up what they dropped.
-Signal your intentions when driving, let someone in ahead of you.
-Think before you speak or act, will my act affect anyone adversely?
-Swear less.
-Complain less.
-Look for and point out the positive.
-Call a friend or shut in you haven’t reached out to for a long time.
-Pick up some garbage from the street.
-Don’t throw garbage out you car window!

I am sure you can think of many more small gestures, that in mass can change our world.

What God Wants For Christmas

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I’ve been wondering lately what God would want for Christmas. When I say God, I mean any creator that you believe in, by any name at all. So then, what would your God want for Christmas?
I know for a fact that something greater than ourselves created this planet, this universe, everything we can an can not see. Something so fantastic must be well cherished, so then by extension I believe I have the first on my list.
God does not want us to destroy each other or our planet, just as any artist would not want their masterpiece to be ruined. God would want us to love what we have been given, to take the utmost care of it, and the life it supports. It must break his heart to see us all war over land and oil, and faith, killing in his name.
He would want those who are part of his creation to live in harmony, mindful of one another, respectful, fair, despite our cultural or religious differences.
He would want us to take care of our home, to keep it clean, suitable for all life, just as we care for our houses. No artist wants their creation soiled.
We should take the time to admire and appreciate what we have been given. Every artist longs for such, that their work is given it due.
We should do all we can to support the creative endeavor, the spark that began it all, for without it we would not be here. I sometimes think we forget that.
So instead of buying a whole lot of gifts this year, why not invest in a new attitude. If everyone on our planet thought about what our creator wanted to achieve when building this creation that sustains us, I think maybe, just maybe things would get a whole lot better. Our newspapers and television shows would be void of war and killing.
A whole lot less souls would be grieving or plotting revenge.
God just wants us to get along, period. Time to do just that!

Life Time Love

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I know the wrinkles in your face
so well
that I can map them in the dark

I know the constancy of your heart
so thoroughly
that I can almost predict your next thought

I know the depth of your soul
so fully
that it has become my own.

Wild Things

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Not long ago we spotted a Chinchilla, a wild one. They are desert dwellers and smaller than their domestic cousins. We stopped to tell a senior we knew about it. He was amazed stating that “Chinchillas are only farmed, not wild.”
We had a bit of a go around, trying to enlighten him that yes, all our so named domestic animals were at one time wild, and many still have their wild counterparts.
This got me to thinking. Have we come so far away from our natural environment that we are no longer aware of what lives in the wild, or where our pets, horses and cattle come from? I sure hope not!

YOU KNOW YOU’RE AN IMMATURE SENIOR WHEN

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-You hire the local fake ID guy to doctor your ID. Now you are taller, lighter and younger than you ever were.
-Your hair is going grey, so you dye it back, again and again. You are contemplating buying a wig!
-You just bought your first muscle/sports car, and you drive it a lot…with the top down.
-You use more cuss words than ever, in more than one language.
-It takes less booze to get you tipsy.
-You have more medicines in your purse than money.
-You used to watch your waist line, now you watch what you waste and leave nothing on your plate!
-Ice cream never tasted so good.
-You like to wear your old well broken in and frayed jeans and gloat that at last you are in style!
-Your remember when the rotary telephone was new technology and actually look back on those days with longing!

The Quail Line

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Five quail were out for a walk through town. The eldest led the group.
Towards the rear a pair of young quail were deep in discussion.
“Why does he always get to lead?” one of them complained.
“Yeah he’s just a know it all,” the other agreed. “He’s always telling us stories, trying to teach us useless stuff from his youth.”
The quail in the middle of the line hear the complaints but kept quiet.
One of the youngsters at the end of the line, who had always coveted the role of leader grew bold. “I’m taking over, time for the old guard to go!” he proclaimed.
In a blink he raced to the head of the line then he raced across the road and was promptly run over and flattened beyond recognition.
The entire lien up skidded to a halt.
The one youngster who had been complaining went silent as he studied his now dead companion.
One of the quail that had been in the middle of the line sadly shook his head. “There is no substitute for a life time of learning,” he quietly noted.
The youngsters at the end of the line never complained again for they now knew that their leader was wise beyond question.

Giving Thanks

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A young woman sat on her couch surrounded by fine furniture and expensive decorations. A Degas hung on the wall near her. Tears ran down her face. Her husband had been unfaithful. She ran a hand over her costly designer suit and sighed. It was Thanksgiving and she had little to be thankful for. Despite her wealth, secure home and three children, she had lost the only thing she valued, her husband. All the things surrounding her, all her fancy club memberships, her designer clothes, and her expensive cars meant nothing. Her husband was out with another woman and her children were staying with friends over the weekend. She seldom saw them for they were registered in exclusive schools half a continent away. Her life was empty.
Across town a young wife sat on an old rickety chair. Beside her sat her husband. Both smiled at each other as they glanced around their sparsely furnished home. They had scrimped and saved every penny to buy their little house. Their funds were low. The little furniture they had was bought at second hand stores or yard sales. Their clothes were second hand finds as well. Yet both felt blessed. They smiled once again for their lives were so full. Though there would be no turkey for them this Thanksgiving, they had much to be thankful for. They held hands and whispered their gratitude to each other.
Further across town, a young woman arose from her tattered well worn bedding. She had spent the night sleeping under the stairs of a shelter, the beds all taken, no room to spare. But the night had been warm and there had been no rain. She had recently escaped a life of abuse, her husband a drunk. He was half a continent away now and she was about to embark on a new life. She had little to call her own, but she knew it was a temporary situation. She smiled as she packed up her sleeping bag and slung her nap sack over her shoulder. She may not have much in the way of tangible assets but she was grateful for what she had, her health, her youth, her looming opportunities, and above all else her recently won freedom.
You see, though our situations may seem grim, if one looks hard enough or considers the alternatives, one can find much to be thankful about.

The Compost

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Once there was an earth worm, who lived in a large compost pile. He was young and eager to make his way in the world. But he was also wise, so before he ventured forth he observed others.
He noticed that there were three choices in life. Most of the other worms lived in the top most layer of the compost. Here there was plenty of food and moisture. In fact the food was the choicest, replenished by the humans who tended the compost pile with great care. This layer was the densest in population.
Some worms preferred the next layer down. Here there was more room. The food wasn’t as plentiful, nor as good, but there was less competition for space. So he ventured there, but found it far too crowded for his liking. He had heard tales of a lower domain where food was sparse but space was plentiful. Weary of competition he headed that way.
He had just arrived when he noted a decided chilling of the temperature. He had been told the deeper into the compost pile the temperatures were nice and steady even if the food was not. He wondered why it had grown so cool. He had his answer soon enough. A few hardy worms ventured into the layer he had so recently moved to.
“I heard tales of how millions froze to death in the top layer,” one of the newcomers declared.
“There were many lost in our layer as well,” a second confessed.
The young worm wondered why. He was told soon enough.
“Now and then the winter becomes harsh and the compost gets frozen. I guess this year is such a winter,” a third new comer added.
The young earth worm knew he had been lucky.
“It is best to go deep in life, the superficial fellow often meets a chilling fate!” Another worm noted.
“Come spring there will be plenty of food when the humans turn the pile,” an older wiser worm noted. “We best wait it out here.”
They all agreed it was a good idea, as they settled into a long dormant stage so they could wait out the winter.

Poem- Forgetful

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Poem- Forgetful

I’m on an important mission
Why am I going down the hall?
So I stop mid way in my stepping
for I simply can not recall.

So I scratch my head and wonder
was it something that I wanted?
Why did I take this pathway?
Now all day I will be haunted.

I will wonder what it was
that special elusive something.
I will try to wrack my brain
until it makes me go insane.

Now and then I’ll think I have it
a smile will span wide upon my face
but in a moment’s heartbeat
that knowledge will erase.

By day’s end I know its hopeless
so I settle down in bed
and all of a sudden
it pops back into my head!