Reconnecting with the Creator


Lay back, rest in my arms. I use a cool cloth to dab the heat and exhaustion from your brow, along your face, over your lips. Nothing else, just holding you and telling you how much I love you as I tickle your face with very light traces of my fingers. My back rests against the shade tree and you sit casually between my legs with your head resting between my breasts. We both are wearing light gauze shifts that gleam brightly in the evening sun.

“Rest, my love. Look around at all our God has gifted us in this one moment of time and just enjoy every sensation that discovery allows you. Think upon the eternal and not upon the present. See the slivers of paradise we have been gifted.” I whisper ever so slightly in your ear as I continue to wipe your hot flesh with a cool cloth. Your breathing is steady and so is mine for we are not trying to kindle a passionate sexual response. No, we are trying to transcend our physical bodies to become one with the energy all around us, which is strong, beautiful, obvious, and subtle. Time does not exist here so we can linger as long as our spirits require. That is what I want to give you, peace, relaxation, love, whispers of love, no demands, no urgings, just being completely comfortable with one another.

We recline upon a grassy bank under a huge shade tree as a babbling brook travels a path it has been carving for hundreds of years. Ducks quietly dip under the water to grab a bite to eat while their ducklings imitate their parents in such comical haphazardness that we laugh together. A cool breeze keeps us comfortable and we soak up all the wonder creation has to offer. The ducklings end up swimming in crazy circles trying out their new webbed feet creating a family dance that is akin to chaos but they are having such joy in the pursuit.

A delicate fragrance of the lily of the valley is carried on the breeze and it caresses our senses. Joined with another wave of lilac, rose, and gardenia, I think. It is not overpowering for each fragrance arrives in singularity as if riding its own strand of wind so that we can enjoy the nuances of ever flower completely.

The sky is incredibly blue with wispy white clouds streaked across the sky. It looks as if someone has pulled a ball of cotton into thin layers and placed them across the sky. Bird song signals that life is going on around us and we soak it all in. So many different songs are filling the place with enchanted melodies that we dare not speak and break the atmosphere of bliss. Instead, we sit here feeling each other’s presence but also feeling every piece of energy flowing in, out, and about us. It feels almost like the pulse of our blood coursing through our veins as the energy moves in and about us. It is electrifying and exhilarating. I am willing this moment to last for all eternity as it is serene, it is glory, and it is pure joy.

No words do we utter, for we just want to be a part of this idyllic scene. Instead, I place my hands upon your chest and lead you in deep inhaling, holding it, and then slowly exhaling. Again and again we repeat this pattern until every nerve and cell in our body is ready to receive all the new and wonderful information that is being sent our way. Now, we have joined the cycle and rhythm of the creation around us. Our life force moves in and out of one another but then goes beyond to join the dance of energy within every living being in this sanctuary.

We are there, in the moment, watching life happen. Nothing intrudes upon us and we become one with our surroundings. Small animals scurry about as if we are not there or if they have determined that we pose no threat. Birds land beside us to choose a particular twig that would adorn their nest perfectly. Occasionally one or two might choose the same adornment and have a bit of tug-of-war with it but one usually resigns and goes off to choose another.

The chattering of chipmunks and squirrels signals a minor debate amongst them but it is only comical to us, for there is no real conflict as the resources seem to be never ending in this place. Clean, clear, cool water runs freely and abundantly, the vegetation is lush with all sorts of edibles. A variety of fruit trees adorn the edges of the forest. I choose an assortment of these perfectly ripe peaches, apples, mangos, dates, plums, and a variety of nuts and black grapes before we sat down. Now I am feeding these fruits to you as you enjoy the view. Each fruit is perfectly ripe and dripping with sweet nectar but I catch every drip down your beautiful chin.
At the base of our shade tree I suggest we lay on a blanket I brought with us so we begin switching positions. You lie behind me and I lie with my back to you. You casually lay your arm across my waist and I interlace my fingers with your own. No words, no speaking, no sexual advancement, for this experience is to be in the moment without straining our energies in any way. Just being connected and yet still free to experience the scene around us in a way that is special to us as individuals and as soul mates. We need nothing from one another, for our spirits are communing with creation directly. We are just there to share it with one another and add our own spark of creation to the scene.

The last vestiges of sunlight filter down through the large green leaves of our shade tree l kissing our skin with the gentleness of butterfly lighting upon us. Its surreal in its perfection.
Nothing disturbs us, not even our own thoughts. We just enjoy everything that our senses are recording and allow them to document every nuance, every tiny detail from the small ladybug taking flight from the tip of the daisy petal to the spider repairing his web for the night’s hunt. A pine cone, heavy with seed, falls from its parent across the stream, scattering its seeds upon impact. The sound of its impact is not harsh; it is a climatic sound of life beginning anew. The impact sends a shower of pine nuts bouncing from their protective armor. A flurry of hurried activity commences as birds, chipmunk, squirrels, a field mouse and even a skunk come to claim the prize of the fresh fallen bounty.

A bird or two come and claim a seedling carrying it off to distances unknown. After the commotion, a small grey squirrel comes out to play with the pine cones and we laugh as it sneaks up on it and tackles it, rolling over and over again. Finally, it tumbles head over tail, down the bank and landing with a great splash into the water below. A rampage of irritation could be felt as the little squirrel protested loudly but it soon recovered, shook itself dry then began playing with the cone again.
About 10 feet away and to the left, a family of soft brown rabbits arrived to munch on the crisp green clover. They do not notice us or they have determined we are not a threat, for they begin to nibble happily. The young ones are hopping high into air playing with one another.

They run about their parents in what seems a chaotic manner but they are happy. They stop only long enough to grab a clover and quickly munch it down. Their parents savor each bite they consume, glad for the rest and the delicious meal. They seem to especially like the purple flowers within the clover bed as they consume them in abundance.
A couple of the baby bunnies tumble into the stream and hop quickly out as if shot from a cannon. We laugh aloud by the shock to the poor bunnies. They shake the excess water from them and now look like a child who is covered in mud but smiling ear to ear with delight.

It is an experience, and they are having fun. They quickly begin their play dance again.
To the right of us, and a little behind us, we hear a larger animal moving through the growth. We have no fear, for there is nothing that will cause harm here. We just wait to see what it to be revealed to us.
Deep orange and black colors push through the undergrowth to reveal a magnificent, fully grown male tiger. He is glorious as he stands and surveys the scene. There is a moment of pure silence as he announces his arrival then lumbers to the stream to drink his fill. Amazingly, the sounds of the grove renew themselves as if none of the others felt threatened at all. The beast plods off to our right and reclines as if to join us in our appreciation of the creation.

No danger, no fear, just being with one another; however, the energy in the grove has intensified to a level that skirts with that pain-pleasure threshold. A bit more noise from the direction he had just arrived reveals his lovely Tigress followed hurriedly by three cubs. They, too, drink and then join the male to enjoy a relaxing afternoon.

Two cubs tug their sire’s ears and one goes at his tail. They are mock growling at him and he is overly tolerant with their play. Occasionally, he will hold one down with his giant paw as it tries to wriggle from his father’s grasp. The tigress grabs one cub at a time and bathes them with long strong strokes of her tongue. Everything here is in unity, no stress, everything is in balance, and everything is as perfect just as our Creator intended. Suddenly, the tiger family decides to leave and lumbers back into the forest.
We are given this great gift to renew our spirits and we are trying desperately to experience everything. Soon, a stag deer emerges to drink from the stream. He is beautiful, carrying a mighty rack with no less than 30 points atop his head indicating his age, strength and virility. He paws and snorts making an unknown communication to our senses but then several doe join him at the water’s edge. After he drinks, he lifts his massive head and surveys every corner of this haven while his does have their fill. His power is intimidating but not threatening to us. Once the does finish, they begin milling about grazing on the tender grass and sweet clover. Remarkably, everything they consume never dwindles; it is just there until their need is filled. Once satiated, they hop across the stream to lie under a large long needled pine. The fallen pine needles provide a soft bed for all of them. Two of the doe are heavy with fawn. It will not be too long before they give birth. For now, they relax and the Stag stands guard until they are all reclined then he too goes to his knees to relax but with ready alertness.

He looks at us directly, intently, an unspoken agreement passes between he and us. Neither will bother the other and we can all enjoy this glorious place. The daylight wanes and ignites the sky in glorious shades of purple, pink, orange, red, and deep blues. It is glory. As the sky grows dark and the moon dances off the surfaces all around them. The filtered moon glow through the leaves of their shade tree caresses their skin illuminating the life spark within. It is so pure, so wonderful, that tears spill from their eyes as bliss claims them. No words are needed. He slowly and gently slides his hands to her breasts with no demands, just as a way of comfort to both of them. He cradles her softly, gently, lovingly. He kisses her neck then slowly lifts her shift from her frame, folds it up and places it under her head as a pillow. He does the same for himself and then lays back down and draws her closer to him. He turns her to lay her softly upon her back so he can stare into her eyes and she into his. Still there is no demand, just love and adoration pouring from one soul to the other. Total and complete merging of the spirit. He tenderly kisses her lips, then each erect nipple in turn. His erection signals his desire as it presses into her belly. His touch is exquisite but neither of them needs more at this point. They are reveling in the peace, love, and joy they have discovered here and would do nothing to break that reward so he lays down beside her and draws her into his protective embrace. Her head rests upon his chest and is lulled to sleep by the steady beat of his heart. They have become part of this moment in time, part of this swirling, vibrant, and abundant energy. The night envelops them allowing them to fall into deep slumber.



Tina Blackledge

Little one.
Hey there…little love
it is time to wake.

Come out…
you are safe.
I will protect you.
Please…take a peek.

One tiny black eye
then the other.

Hello, my little
darling. Welcome,
welcome to your life.

The eyes seem oversized
for its tiny fur covered face.
They sparkle with intense

“Yes,” she motions
all of this is yours.
Come out.
We have been
waiting for you.

The tiny creature yawned mightily,
showing small teeth used for
munching vegetation.

She holds her cupped hands out in
expectation. The creature hops
into the open vessel.

She is certain she has
never felt such
luxuriously soft

It cocked its head
at each of the new
sounds filtering
through its oversized ears.

It’s silver fur shone
brightly in the intensity
of the moonlight.

A small purring and clicking
noise began low from the
creature in her hands.

A chorus of fluid
melody was
given in answer
throughout the glade.
Thousands of voices
from everywhere.

The sound sent trills throughout
every cell in her body.
She always loved this
first awakening.

The little one
gave a hardy reply
then the entire glade
trembled in melodic

Light radiated from
the tiny one
spreading throughout
he, down through
her feet, into every vine,
every root, traveling up
every blade of grass,
stem and tree until
light burst into the

Everything a glitter.
Time stands still
every particle suspended
Wave after wave of
power burst into the sky
adding energy to all it

The little one has awakened
and with it

Choosing Death…Mercy or Madness?

          Most of you reading this will automatically assume that I am suicidal and in need of an immediate intervention. Rest assured, that is not the case; instead, I throw a topic out there that is spoken of only in whispers and largely condemned throughout the races, cultures, lands and history. As you know, if you have been following my blog from the start, I have lived with rheumatoid arthritis since the tender age of five. I will not try to recap everything that this disease entails because it would be terribly redundant. It can be summed up with pain, loss of mobility, and many secondary ailments. There is no cure, all treatments are toxic, and the endgame is the same, dying in terrible twisted agony. And… Alone. Friends and loved ones will hang on as long as they can in their support, care, and love of you. But in the end, death will tarry causing enormous suffering on every level imaginable. Yet, this end is much easier to bear than it is to witness. Hence, friends and loved ones cannot bear to look upon your twisted frame or endure your cries. There is no condemnation in this statement, it is only a reality.

           Lifers, people who have had a debilitating disease from birth to death, know well the end they face and spend their lives coping for that eventuality. Yet, those who are “short-termers” (people who develop a debilitating disease at 40 or above) cannot possibly fathom the end facing them. Truth be told, the short-termers are utilizing all their resources just to make it through the day so they are not capable of handling the idea of a horrific end. Likewise, the family and friends of ‘short-termers’ also have extreme difficulty dealing with their loved one’s ailment. Many will scatter and flee from this unknown terror leaving the ‘short-termer’ utterly alone. Chronic illnesses are not immediate death sentences; rather they are decrees of lifetime torture. I write this to honor the struggles of a couple of friends, who have been having a particularly active period with their respective ailments. I understand the pervasive ache in the hearts and minds of these friends for humanity is so limited in its understanding that it is easier to discard or abandon that which frightens us.

             As a lifer, I have learned to live with my ailments and the attitudes of others toward me. At first, you try to hide it, be normal, do not let on that anything is different, for when they know, when then see, they run or worse, stay and persecute you. It has taken me a lifetime of watching my own mother deteriorate, worsen, then die a horrifically painful death as my own ailments progressed to see the utter lunacy of it all. I used to be driven mad by the whys of it all and human wisdom falls so far short that it was more a slap in the face than a comfort. Upon my journey, I clung to the knowledge that Christ loves me and that I was not being punished for some unknown sin. My suffering and the suffering of all has purpose even if we cannot see it in the moment. No one, no, not a single person can understand these words unless you have trudged through the bowels of hell, itself.

            The turmoil within a person who must live with this daily torture can become so severe that he or she will begin entertaining the idea of ending their pain permanently. Pain, as a descriptor is a hopelessly inadequate term for the multilevel, pervasive emotional, mental, physiological, and spiritual pain a person with chronic disease suffers. We spend too much time getting people to just see us, just to validate that we are worthy of drawing breath and that there is just as much purpose, if not more, for our lives as there is for theirs.

            When I express my desire for paradise then I am quickly labeled “suicidal”. Make no mistake; I hunger to be in paradise to feel one moment in my existence in which pain does not occupy. Anyone who is in chronic pain for a lifetime and says they do not look forward to the moment of release is either a masochist or a liar. Nevertheless, that does not make us suicidal, crazy, depressed, or faithless. Do I get depressed? Profoundly depressed on the spiritual level! Do I struggle with my faith, yes, but it is the struggle that brings understanding. I would love for the pain to be gone forever, but I feel extremely blessed because I am not attached to this world. I do not hold value in the things most people do because I know they are meaningless. Possessions mean nothing, fame means nothing, and fortune means the least because none of these things will release you. None of these things will bring happiness or understanding. They can only mask the pain and suffering of any who are in such pursuits. No Earthly thing will ever be able to fill the void left when a person turns from his or her Creator. Make no mistake, whether or not you believe in a divine creator matters little in the end because by that point, you have already wasted your existence by self-serving pursuits. If you have not attempted to decrease the suffering of others by any measure while you drew breath on this planet then your life meant nothing. You took up space and resources that could have been better utilized. Suffering exists only because of a broken creation. If you have done nothing to try to fix your little corner of creation then you are the problem. We all suffer, regardless of status, wealth, or power but the difference between Short-timers, lifers, and everyone else? We see it, we understand it we know the end game because our walk upon this earth is finite, our suffering is limited to no more than 120 years. It is a mere blip on the screen of humanity. We know it can be endured, survived, and even thrive in spite of it.

          It is ‘everyone else’ with their mottos of, “don’t ever give up! Keep fighting the good fight! Or “these disabled people are all a draw on our resources, let them all die and rid ourselves of the burden.” that must be endured. The first motto may not seem so bad unless it is you doing the suffering. Our friends and loved ones don’t want to lose us so they demand we fight but they cannot provide any reason to continue the battle except for telling us that God controls life and death and not we ourselves. This is certainly accurate, but they do not provide any strategies of how to endure the suffering only that it must be endured. These statements are at least borne of love so we may resent hearing them but we can understand why they are uttered. The second set, ‘let them all die’, makes rational sense if you place value on a human being for only what you can get out of them and if you abide by strict parameters of what is of value that can obtained. The point is neither group has any business telling the one doing the suffering how they should or should not live. Humanity cannot fathom the creator’s plan; therefore, how can anyone individual hold the absolute truth? Just because someone prints it and packages it and you buy it doesn’t mean its the best or accurate way to live life. The only purpose for a human being is to make another human being better at being human. If we all did this, blind to all differences, then our creation would heal and suffering would stop. Yet, that seems impossible, and it truly is for mankind, because we cannot agree on anything small let alone the big questions.

             If you are looking for answers, start the search within yourself, for that is where the problem begins. All of us are created for a very specific reason but none of us are forced to fulfill it. We are given the choice and the longer we take the more broken creation becomes, it can only end one way, in great suffering. We lifers already know this, we see it, and we feel it. We know the beauty, awe, and wonder of this glorious creation but we see the scars humanity continues to inflict upon one another, upon the land, upon the air, and even in space.

If you are healthy or if you are suffering, if you were given another day on this planet, then use it for the betterment of all instead of the advancement of yourself, for there is only one end for all in this corporal form. Make the journey worth it, make each of your steps count because even us “lifers” understand that only when our purpose has been fulfilled will God call us home; therefore, that must mean we have a job to do until we are released from these broken bodies. So…let us do it with great vigor towards a different ending, one of healing and not ultimate suffering.

Choosing death, mercy or madness? Of course, it would be merciful but that does not mean it is the way it is meant to be unless your purpose has been fulfilled and who are we to decide when the job is accomplished? There haven’t been many notable cases where God kicked in an ‘early retirement clause’ for humanity. Stay the course, keep fighting not because I cannot bear to lose you but for the sole reason that all of humanity needs you to fulfill your role, whether they ever recognize it or not.


Tina Blackledge

Delicate pale blue blossoms
lift joining their siblings
weaving long strands
giving form
to the strong
summer breeze.

Delicate fragrance
tickles the nose
enticing all to
take notice

Birth of curiosity
of wonder
of awe.

Eyes drawn upward
met by the applause of the
trees dancing in the

Soft moss underfoot
cushions each step
toward the brook.

Moonlight kisses
the surface of the
clear water reflecting
the power held in
the stars.

Standing upon the edge
her shift piling around her feet.
Stepping into the water
reveals it deeper than
it first appeared.
Barely the water
lifts the breasts.
Cupping waterfalls over
head and shoulders.

Power infuses
water cleanses

Grace guides
her steps firmly upon
the bank

She spreads her shift out
upon the soft bed of moss
Taking rest upon her

Moonlight bathes her anew
as each droplet sparkles
in her hair, upon her lips
over her skin.

Her breath is visible in
the night air but
she feels no cold.

Soon her breathing
signals the rhythm of sleep
Stirring only slightly
as the stag standing
on the opposite bank
snorts loudly in
warning to all
who dare

He watches.
He protects.
He will defend
to his last breath.


Tina Blackledge

Firm and binding
a cocoon of protection.

Delicate with a fragile strength
slumbering unaware

Tiny tremors caress
her awake

Appearing all around,
a network of spider web cracks
filter life light

tentatively she reaches toward
the sparkling wonder.

Warmth, tingling,

Her barrier, her protector
revealed a prison.

Up, she reaches
suffocation is imminent.
Push harder, faster
through the obstacle
up, up, ah.

Deeply inhale
let it go.


A stirring, a heaviness
Building, multiplying

Layer upon layer
each within a hidden

Stronger, taller,

Amid weeds,
she stands tall
a beacon of hope
among the hate and

Beauty within bleak despair.
calling to her brothers
and sisters.

Soft and delicate
strong and fierce

Cool morning dew
washes her sensuous

millions of tiny prisms reflecting
the Sun’s kiss upon her tender flesh.

Softly, tenderly
his warmth pulls back her garment of

deep kisses coaxing
each petal to reveal its

layer upon layer bend
to his expertise
She is glory.

Existence pauses
basking in her beauty

Silky pink layers
piled atop the other
trimmed with the deepest of

Her fragrance is
the spark of life
hanging heavily in the

Her purpose

She will light the way
allowing her spirit
to taste

Brothers, Sisters
Join me, traverse
your fear, conquer
your pain, stand

To fall, one must
let go.

Only then will our
protective prisons
dissolve into ruin.




Tina Blackledge

Open your eyes to the light
tiny babe.
Open your eyes to the wonder
of humanity.

A wail of protest signals her arrival
into a world full of possibilities.

Tears of Joy fill the room.
The babe is placed in her
mother’s arms.

Three days she took
to make this
journey into

Her tender
cheeks colored crimson
as the bond was set between
parent and child. Both relieved to
see their newest daughter.

“What took you so long,
little one?” a weary
mothered asked. Tears
streaming freely.

Nearly five years
go by as quickly as
a hummingbird’s flight.

The night calm is shattered
by the child’s wails.
The mother and father are by
her side in an instant.

What is the danger? They
cannot see a threat but the
child wails.  Skin hot to the
touch. Tears flow all around.

Test after test. Doctor after doctor.
Month after month.
“Your Daughter…is ill.
She will only get worse.
Be assured, it will not kill
her. No, she will live…
but a life different it will be.”
a physician proclaims.

Each word, a dagger to
the parent’s heart.
Two more daughters at home.
The father’s income uncertain.
The mother’s health
is failing.

Three years more.
The sickness is invisible to
most. The daughter lives her
life between chronic flares, bronchitis,
pneumonia, and near constant fever.
The mother is ill. The daughters are sent
to family many times
to be given protection and care.

The grandmother alone, would
accept the sick daughter, for all others
held fear. The child had barely seen eight
years pass when two of her uncles, whose
bedroom she shared, taught her
another kind of pain.

Trust was destroyed.
Innocence stolen.
Her body burned crimson as
she learned to silence
pain and own shame.

A secret set by lies
and blame. “God thinks you
are filthy because of what you did here.
If you tell, everyone will know what
a bad girl you have been and they
will not love you anymore. No one
wants you around now and if anyone
finds out this secret then
not even Grandma will let you
come here. Mommy and Daddy will not
love you, they won’t even be able
to look at you again because
they will know how dirty you are. God
saw what you did and he is angry at you.
So, if you tell or if you do not
do exactly what I say then everyone
will know what a dirty little
whore you are because
you let boys touch you.”

The sick daughter
began to pray anyway,
“Please God,
please take me away.
Please, just let me die.”

School taught her.
She was fat. She was ugly.
She was stupid. She was poor.
She was worthless.
Her heart turned to stone.
“If you hate me so much, just strike me
dead!” The girl prayed as anger
consumed her.

Six years expire.
Parents have allowed hate
to divide the family.
Mother and daughters alone,
hiding from
darkness only father can bring.
The mother is ill.

Surviving, barely.
The secret revealed
the family divides. The uncle’s words
proven true. Her heart is dead.

Two daughters marry
finding too late that a hasty
escape would bring profound

The mother and daughter have
long ago switched roles. The daughter
takes all the right steps to success but
security is never found.

God hates her, she believes.
She tires of waiting for him
so she tries to escape her sentence
of lifelong suffering.
Her attempts
are thwarted and her rage

Cast back into poverty. Discarded
as refuse, once again.
A choice she must make, live or die.
Her attempts have wounded her family.
She cannot bear to see them in pain.
A promise she makes to her
loved ones, herself, and to God.
She will not take her life
but prays in earnest that God
will give meaning to this woe begotten existence.

The mother worsens until the
daughter can no longer offer
care so they are
separated for the first
time in thirty-four years.
Guilt and release, is
profoundly felt.

The daughter is caring now from afar.
Given the freedom to
live her life.
Her body has been used up.
She tries even harder.
Beginning a new career
hopes are held high.

Her spirit to survive will not allow
injustices to live so into the
mainstream she fits not.

Her body is failing,
mobility is a decision.
She resigns herself to just
surviving and
writing something of
worth to leave behind.

A change, unexpected.
God has something more planned.
He never hated her,
he was never angry with her
and now he showing her
how very much he loves her.
God uses another
to melt the cold dead heart that
ceased to beat so many decades before.

She wasn’t looking.
In fact, she pushed it away for decades.
No man could she love.
No man would she allow to love her.
Her heart was closed off forever.
Imagine, her wonder.
Imagine her awe.
Imagine her delight.
God gifted her love from the purest of hearts
and the purest of men.
All those years of suffering,
all those years of pain melted into nothingness,
as she was lavished with unconditional love.
Not only was she gifted this man’s love
but now she knew beyond
any doubt that God loved her.
He never wanted her to suffer.
He never wanted her to feel pain,
for only he could have helped this man
sneak past the walls she had constructed.
Only God could have melted her heart.

God   loved   her.

God loved her
and that, she found,
is all she ever needed.
She is going to live.
She is living.