thread in the darkness.

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A thread in the darkness, silken, reflective,

Glowing in the stillness and silence of the night that had engulfed his world.

He reached out. It did not quail.

Spider silk strong, it responded to his touch as he wrapped his hand around it.

Tensile strength lifted him, souring from the darkness to a world of light and song.

He looked into eyes pure and true. Love reflected,

The tiny thread that rescued him sprang from those eyes.

He took her hand, delicate, frail, yet strong as the web she had wove round his heart.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he whispered.

Feeling old?

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Age is opportunity no less,
Than youth itself, though in another dress.
And as the evening twilight fades away,
The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.
(Longfellow).

We all have our days when we feel old, even twenty something spring chickens! However when you pass the 60 something turnpike it becomes reality that your body, no matter how well maintained, starts to sag and wilt at some of the things your energized mind conceives.
There are three paths.
1)Fight it and be in denial – get face lifts, try every supposed miracle health cure, where inappropriate clothing etc.
2) Alternatively you could throw in the towel sit back in your armchair and turn on the TV.
3)For me the other course seems better, embrace the beauty of each age. Not trying to be something you are not (young)but still living life to the full. Tapping into the wisdom and maturity you’ve hopefully gained along the way, remembering, though glorious in summer, the true strength and beauty of a tree is not truly visible till winter.

Who are you hiding ?

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(A thought for the new year)

I’d so often tried to be
The sort “they” thought I ought to be.
To wear the clothes, the face, the fit
To wow the crowds, to be a hit.
Yet hidden deep beneath it all
My hidden self began to call

“Now let me out, don’t be a fake!
Just let me fully life partake!
Open the window of your soul
For good or ill ‘twill make you whole”.

Hand shook and thumbled with the catch,
My inner being to unlatch.
Flung wide the door to let them see
That thing that was the inner me.

To my surprise and not alarm
They looked within serene and calm,
Embraced the inner me with love
Became connected far above
Those former shallow futile links
I’d made with “friends” all full of kinks.

The sun comes down upon me now
The art of living? I’ve learnt how.
The precious you that dwells within
Just set it free real joy to win.

Be still.

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I came across an old poem 

 

“I know an old house on a hill,

A mountain road, a grove, a rill,

And billowed hilltops stretching far

To sunset and evening star.

I take a path through glade and wood,

Deep drinking of its solitude,

And find a spot o’er reached and still

Where peace and poise the spirit fill.

The Master’s presence there is near,

The Master’s plan again is clear,

And far removed from work or strife

I re-appraise the worth of life.

Yet hill and outlook, glade and wood,

The time, the place, the solitude

Hold not the secret of the prayer

The secret place of anywhere.

It impressed on me the verse “Be still and know that I am God”. In this busy world folks often seem chasing a dream they can’t catch, or running from some intangible fear, how wonderful to be still, and in that stillness find the pervading strength and peace of God.

 

 

Drifting in a world of magic.

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Shimmering white closes behind us, ahead concealing mist.

Trees hide behind shimmering, soft veils of light, shadowed echoes.

Carols ring out through the silence, mulled wine enhancing vocal chords,

Silenced by Christmas luncheon.

Water skims slowly by ornamented by clusters of ducks, a swan here or there.

All upstaged by the jeweled visitor, surveying us from his perch, streaking of, dazzling in his vest of emerald and midnight blue – a kingfisher dressed for the season.

(Thoughts on a Christmas canal trip with my fellow sailing volunteers.)

 

Ode to youth.

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I use to be so arrogant, so wholly stuffed with pride,
When looking in the mirror my concept of me lied.
Others were beneath me, I only knew the way,
Little was I knowing the falls I’d take one day.
Decked in all illusions I briskly trod along
Not seeing all around me the places I’d gone wrong.
Until one day it happened, illusion stripped away,
With horror I acknowledged my inner self that day.
When stripped of all my vaunting, how shriveled up inside,
My inner soul was reeking with the awful stench of pride.
From then a humbler being, I walked within the realm,
My acid thoughts undoing, no more beneath prides spell.
A wiser, fuller creature I hope from that day on
To give to others glory and echo in their song.
A song of love, and heartfelt, admission of my ills
As love rose up within me, as understanding thrills.
I see now all my folly I wrought within those days,
I hope now I am wiser and walk within God’s ways.