Seedling


 

A single Seed I cradle protectively in my palm.

I know the perfect place to plant it.

A rich dark patch of soil lays in anticipation

directly beside the path.

I cup my hands around it

as I gingerly transport it down the steps,

past the concrete driveway,

beyond the gravel watershed to

arrive at the rich patch of soil.

 

A mid-spring rain has saturated the

Patch allowing a familiar aroma to reach my nose.

The life of last season’s flowers, leaves, insects and grass

have created a soil overflowing with essential nutrients for

this tiny seed.

 

A year’s time has kneaded, turned, mulched and beat

this patch of ground into a luxurious bed of life-giving

Energy.

 

All I need do is take my precious cargo

 and give it back to its Creator.

 

Freeing one hand, I gently dig a small valley

In the mound of soil.

Looking at the odd little

seed I ponder it’s circumstance.

 

I know it’s full potential but

It looks like an ugly shriveled

speck of waste.

 

How many others, I wonder,

would have tossed it out

because they were

 blind to its potential?

 

If I kept it as a treasure, then I would

be just as bad as those who

would throw it out.

I would deny it the glory it

is destined to become.

If I do not trust our Creator to take over

after I give it to him then it will always be

only a seed.

 

Yet, if I let it go.

 If I give it to him

then he will transform it.

 

I tilt my palm

allowing the seed to fall,

as if a pebble, into the dark bed

I had prepared for it.

 

I move the mound of

soil atop the seed,

pat it firmly,

say a little prayer then

I walk away knowing

God will be faithful to

His promises.

The journey it must now

endure is not an easy one.

 

Transformations are never

gentle, never easy but

 they always reveal more

than we ever thought

possible.

 

Daily, I look for evidence

 that my tiny seed

has started it’s journey

 knowing full well that

time

 is the most critical element

In growth.

 

Tiny, tender, green leaves

push the surface soil away reaching

earnestly reaching toward the Sun.

 

Fragile and young,

It has taken root.

Shadows shield its future but

it is not alone on this journey.

 

I will shield it from the hail, the wind,

and the terrible storms.

 It will be protected

from the harsh sun and the invaders

who wish to take it’s life for their own.

I will protect it from all harm,

for God

has entrusted it’s care to me.

It is my job to treasure it,

to aid it on its journey

so that it can fulfill the purpose

for which God created it.

 

God put us on each other’s path

to aid one another,

to grow one another,

to shield one another,

to love one another,

to endure hardships together,

to enjoy victory together and

to reach full Glory

together.

 

I have a Seed

that

Must be

Planted.   

 

 

 

Spirit Fire


heart

Spirit afire,
love in bloom
whispers
begin to weave
a bond for eternity.

Time treads ahead
caring not for
love.

Love in Lust
or
Lust in Love?
The Spirit Fire
burns
permitting the
womb to grow
twice again.

Time treads forward
caring not for
love.

We look no more
upon the others
countenance
fearing we may
glimpse disappointment
given birth by debt, pain,
hateful words leaving
the Spirit Fire
barely smoldering.

Time treads forward
caring not for
love.

My locks are grey and
yours are thin.
Both hold more
weight than when
we first began.
Children grown
leaving each of
us feeling alone.

Time treads forward
caring not for
love.

How have we gotten here
to this place of
grief and despair?
Why did we allow the
Spirit Fire to die?
We loved deeply
passionately so
why did the fire die?

Time treads forward
caring not for
love.

Looking upon his bride
he sighed deep inside.
Eyes filling to the brim
wiping his wife’s
gently from her cheek.
‘I am not ready to say
goodbye,’ thought he.
I love my bride.

Time treads forward
caring not for
love.

Gazing up into her
husband’s grief-stricken face
she thought she glimpsed a
spark she had thought long
extinguished. Life had beaten
them down and tried to steal
their joy. It had bombarded them
with doubts, fears, and temptations.
She gently wiped his tears
smiling softly.
“I think we lost our anchor
somewhere among
the years. Alas, now
I see the spark
that is the Spirit
Fire,” her voice trembled.

Time treads forward
caring not for
love.

“Yes, beloved, when we
first began this journey
we thought time was endless
but now, here we are and
I realize those years
were but a wisp of smoke.”
He gathered her into his embrace
kissing her soundly and whispering
his love and devotion.
She returned his affection
but only for a moment.
He grasped her all the
tighter as her
Spirit Fire left her.

Time treads forward
caring not for
love.

If you have been
blessed with the
other half of your
Spirit Fire then
LOVE him or her
in Action, Deed, and Word
Every minute of every day.
Each person was created for another.
Two halves of a whole.
If your choices bring you together
then recognize the miracle in
finding him or her.
God will use your choices for
ultimate good but there are
many paths of pain, for
love is hard work and
the price is high but
the rewards are eternal.

Set your anchor to avoid the Drift.

Time treads forward
caring not
for love.

Little Sparrow


by
Tina Blackledge

Little sparrow,
tell me how
you can
sing so
happily.

My Father
cares
for
every
need.

Your father!
Indeed?
Why you and
not me?

Simple,
I believe.

Well, not me!
No, not me!
Are you blind?
Can’t you see
the misery?

Blind I am not.
Certainly, I
see all
the insanity
in humanity.

Yet, merrily
you sing from
early morning
till dusk. There
is no reason or trust!

Ah, reason
you say?
What profit
have you
found in
reason
up to
this
day?

Surely, you
have lost
your little
bird mind!
We have medicine
allowing us to
live longer.
We have technology
that makes our
lives easier.
Why, we even
have places
we live in
space!

Impressive, without doubt!
Then all humanity is happy
and free?

Not… Exactly.
Wait just a darn
minute! You know
full well why
humans struggle
and die.

Yes, I do.
Can you
see what
is truly
true?

Of course I
can, your Father
did us in! He
set us up for
failure then
left us in
sin!

Ha! Fool
that you are
it is little
wonder
why your kind
cannot see
very far!

Oh really?
Do tell, little
sparrow, why
you are so much
better off than me.

I was created
on day five
to serve as blessing
and to fill the skies.
Every corner of creation
have we taken flight
noticing an ever
growing blight.
Rightly said, Sin
did you all in
but that is not
where it all ends.

You are a silly bird,
falling for these
childish stories.
How does a single
one abate your
worries?

Oh man, cannot
you see, there is not
one shred of worry in me!
My Father’s eye is always
upon me and I trust him
with the life he has
given me.

You are a puny little
bird, you have no power,
you have no wealth, no
security, and no assurance.
How can you believe this
travesty?

If only you could see how
the world appears to me. Then
maybe, just maybe you could
believe.
In my flights, here and there,
I cannot help but hear the
cries of terror, pain, and anguish
spreading everywhere.
A plague inching its way
into every home.
The Father made the
ultimate sacrifice to
ensure each of his
children had an
opportunity to
return home.
You rejected him,
scorned, scoffed, slandered,
reviled, repackaged, and recreated
a modern palatable Creator, who
cannot offend any.

By your account
humanity has failed
and there is no hope
left in such a wicked world.

The Father is patient,
forgiving, and loving
beyond all measure
so there is always
reason to hope.

What could I possibly
do, for I am nothing, even
less than you?

No, this is not true.
I have not told you
all there is to know.
The plague of misery
spreads quite easily
but
there has always been
something extraordinary.
During humanity’s darkest,
most vile moments.
It cannot be seen by
human sight.
No, not from the ground
or a plane in flight.
However, birds have
perfect sight.
In the deepest, darkest nights
where the screams accelerate the blight…
something new grows bright.

What was it? Have we developed a
new weapon?

No…at least not in the
way you imagine. We thought
they were rivers at first but then
came to realize it was hope, kindness and
love being offered to humans during the
very worst times of their lives. It looked as if
a complex network of veins and
capillaries spread everywhere. Nothing
was untouched by this glorious light. It
was coming from believers in Christ
following God’s plan for his or her life.
The Holy Spirit revealed
in acts of love, courage, and compassion
offering salve to those trapped in an evil pit.
There is always hope to defeat shadows. Each human
created is given a task to help those
around you in desperate need, yet often this task
is clouded by greed.

If each one of you

could submit and obey to all the

Father has to say then your

spirit will grow adding

to this wondrous light show.

Matthew 10:29-31

Why Am I?


Opening my eyes
greeted by my pups
yapping good morning.

I have to move,
I must get out of bed
and I think, ‘Why again,
did I want dogs?’ but then
their exuberant kisses,
happy eyes and wagging tails
quickly remind me.

I muster my strength
and pull myself to the edge
of the bed, simultaneously
praying for the ability
and offering praise for
each and every inch.

My pups cheer me on
until I am upright
wobbling my way
to the bathroom.

Putting on my robe
releases another round
of barking, but now in urgency.
I move as quickly as
my body will permit.

By the time I hobble my
way to the living room,
start the routine and
hook them to their
leashes they are
dancing in circles.

I grasp the leashes tightly,
grimace at the pain,
then open the door.
They bound outside
to find their favorite
spots then scout out
the yard for nightly
critter activity.

I descend the five steps
that lead to my home
stiff-legged holding
firmly to the leashes.
Walking to my favorite
spot, a lawn chair
providing a picturesque view
between several large,
beautiful trees. Wispy
white clouds are
streaked across the
blue expanse.

I praise God for this gift
and begin thinking. First,
I think of the tasks
that need accomplished,
the tasks that I would
like to accomplish,
and then the ones that will
actually get accomplished.

I dismiss the aches and pains,
and the spasms in my back,
while inspecting the ulcerations
upon my skin.

Now I have time to ponder,
“Why am I?”

Flowering “weeds”


To thee, it may be a weed, but to me it is cause for revelry!

Flowering weed

Flowering weed 2

Flowering weed 3

Though I know not its name or purpose, I am certain that it possesses both characteristics. Everything is created for a reason, including you and me but this flower does not have to seek a purpose, for it knows what it is and what it is supposed to do during its lifespan. We, in contrast, must seek out our purpose, meet it, exceed it, conquer it, and leave this creation a little better than when we arrived. As long as we all strive to do that, then our purpose will be fulfilled.

Moonlight


by
Tina Blackledge
6-26-2014

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
wind.

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
Refreshed
Renewed.

Grace guides
her steps firmly upon
the bank

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

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
approach.

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

REACH


Reach
by
Tina Blackledge
06-23-2014

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,
energizing!

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.

Wondrous.
hue

A stirring, a heaviness
within.
Building, multiplying
growing.

Layer upon layer
each within a hidden
code.

Stronger, taller,
wiser.

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

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

Soft and delicate
strong and fierce

Cool morning dew
washes her sensuous
curves

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

Softly, tenderly
his warmth pulls back her garment of
green.

Caressing…slowly
deep kisses coaxing
each petal to reveal its
center.

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
red.

Her fragrance is
the spark of life
hanging heavily in the
air.

Her purpose
fulfilled.

She will light the way
allowing her spirit
to taste
eternity.

Brothers, Sisters
awake.
Join me, traverse
your fear, conquer
your pain, stand
tall.

To fall, one must
let go.

Only then will our
protective prisons
dissolve into ruin.

 

 

Living


Living
By
Tina Blackledge
6-19-2014

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
awakening.

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
heartache.

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
burns.

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.

 

Take my Hand…


Blinding radiance
brings an arm to shield her sight.
Looking into the
faces crushing about
reveals they see nothing.

Pulsations travel through the soil
moving her being.
A tingling sensation progresses from
her feet, to her knees, to her center.

Blood is afire as it surges through
her veins making the roar
audible to her alone.

Lungs freeze in expansion.
The heart stills as the
energy continues
its upward journey.
There is no pain.
There is no fear.
There is only being.

The eyes once stung by
the radiance now adjust as
the energy fills them
from within.

Her eyes see…everything.
The throngs continue in
their pursuits.
They are shrouded in
darkness, yet appear happy.
Nothing has changed for them.
They are happy.

Exhaling, she realizes she had
been holding her breath.
Form after form becomes
tangible in the light.
The colors are brilliant and
hold a depth she has never
before witnessed.

The air is crisp and dew
droplets cling to the
vegetation growing in lush control.

A small, unfamiliar sound
tickles her ear. Looking about
her eyes find its maker. A small,
red-haired fox. A kit, alone but
unafraid of her approach. It was mewing.
Calling for its mother or siblings, she thought.
Scooping it up, she knew she had
never felt such luxurious softness.

It’s eyes looked at her with interest
but began its mewing again when she
failed to produce the familiar scent its
mother owned alone.

The plants before her parted.
The dame had found her lost kit.
There was no tension between the
three. The mother simply came up
and plucked the kit from the woman’s hand.
Then it disappeared into the foliage.

Perhaps she was sick,
lying in the hospital with fever?
Maybe she was dead!
Regardless of these thoughts,
she felt nothing but peace.

The mutterings of those
milling about the edge of the light
was indistinct chatter. Although
fascinated by this fact, her attention was
drawn back toward the place she
knelt.

“Take my hand, child.”
A voice so melodic commanded
with gentle strength.
Every cell tingled at its sound.
What a glorious sensation!

She accepted the extended hand
and felt her entire being
radiate with power. It was
as if every good thing her senses
had ever recorded was
being felt all at once.
Waves of glorious sensation
made her want to hold this hand
forevermore.

Once upon her feet, he released her.
Eyes spilling their joy,
she looked upon his face with
intensity.

He heard the questions of her
heart but only offered a smile
of knowing in return.
Once her tears stopped
spilling and her
breathing leveled.
He began.

“This is a veil separating you
from the purity and
love I used to create existence.
Your mortal self will not be
permitted to tarry.” his voice
caressed her senses.

She could only listen as
her entire being was captivated
by the love emanating from
that beautiful voice.

“Daughter, you have been
called to walk between the
light and darkness.” a soft
sadness caressed every word.
“Some of my children are so
lost they have accepted
the darkness as reality.” pain had
entered his voice and the sensation
upon her being was pure agony.

“Are you willing to help them?” he
asked motioning to the shadowed
throngs.”Some are so far away
from the light, they cannot see a pinpoint.
Some have so much pain they
have given up the search.
And still others are diligently
working to destroy.”

The pain in his words brought her
to her knees. The intensity
was searing her essence. He was
not inflicting it upon her,
she was experiencing
a ‘glancing blow’ of
his broken heart.

“Daughter, take my hand”, his words
ended her pain immediately.
His loved poured into her
as he grasped her hand.

“You must go,”
speaking with all authority.
“You are not alone.
I have called many to the path you
have been asked to walk.
Each of them have arrived upon
this path through different vehicles
but all who have been called know well
of hardship and pain.
Just as you, they have survived
the darkness
with help from those, whom
I sent before you.
If you choose this task,
you must keep one foot in each realm.”

Each word he spoke
overwhelmed her due to the
sensations his voice caused and the
weight of their content. As long as
she held onto his hand, she was able to
endure it, but only… just.

She knew her answer and felt herself being
pulled back toward the edge… between.
As her fingertips held desperately to his,
she felt as if she were drowning
gasping for her final breath.
Everything stilled.

“Daughter, have peace. I am always
with you. Never will I leave you.
Others are already in place
to help you with this
most important task.
I love you my sweet,
darling daughter.
I love all of you.”

At once, she felt others pushing
their way past her and the sound of
those selling their wares. Her eyes
focused and just when her mind
had begun to rationalize the experience,
she felt…more.

A beautiful green and yellow butterfly
took flight. She watched its
graceful dance
as the sun shown brilliantly
through it’s veneer wings.
The stark contrast between its
beauty and the misery that abounded
all around was
breathtaking.

“Everything…is different,” She
whispered. A broad smile graced
her countenance as she
took her first step toward
hope.

An Answer to the Question (pt3)


An Answer to the Question
By
Tina Blackledge
June 14, 2014

They had always known their
time together would be short.
There are no illusions when two Autumns
meet and fall in love.
They found one through impossible
obstacles and neither was looking
for romantic love. Hence,
they were certain their meeting
was God ordained.

As they worked in the garden,
tending to the beautiful spring
blossoms, each caught the other
staring. Smiles of love and understanding
graced their worn countenance.

Every now and again, he would come up
behind her and embrace her. Whispering
sweet words of love. He drew long breaths
of her scent every time they were close as if
he was trying imprint every detail of her into
his being forever.

Ever since they had fallen in love, time seemed to
disobey the laws of nature speeding
through their lives like rushing water over rapids.
After the diagnoses, time had stopped, for they refused to count the
days or hours they may or may not have left.
They only wanted to enjoy each other and the
pure happiness they had been given. Her husband demanded they
not give any time to regret or wishing for something
that could not be, for that would only make the
days, weeks, years they had left unbearable. No his wife fully
agreed. No mourning, for neither was dead so they must live
each day as if it was a lifetime in and of itself. Even before the illness,
They had devoted themselves to living life that way, for both
were living in broken shells and no one knew how much time they
would be given so they vowed to make the most of it.

Two people could never have loved as fiercely
and completely as these two lovers. They knew what was
important in their relationship. They fully understood where
the priorities of life should be; therefore, there was no
need to waste time on trivialities. Things most
couples would dwell upon and allow to
ruin their happiness or worse, intrude on their love.

Just then she heard him move to her
then felt his strong loving arms around her and
she leaned into his strength.
“My sweet darling, you are beauty itself,” he whispered softly.
She loved when he touched her, for he ignited every cell in her body.
He was so loving and generous in spirit to her that she
fell in love with anew every day. She did not deserve his
devoted love but she relished and craved it beyond the
very air she breathed. Her heart broke for him, for she
saw the suffering in his eyes. Secretly, she was glad
it would be her who was first to leave her broken body behind.
She could not bear him dying before her but her heart did break for his
loss. She wished they had more time but they did not so they had to
make every moment count.

“Dearheart, may I ask you, why me? Why did you
choose to love me?” I posed. “I am nothing. I
possess no beauty. I possess only sickness and a
broken body. How could you choose to love me above
all others?” I continued. His nuzzling of my ear stopped
abruptly. His body stiffened and I knew I had wounded him
with my questions. To my surprise, he spun me around to face
his piercing stare making the flowerpot I was holding drop and shatter.
“How do you not know by now how madly I love you?” he said with
tears in his eyes. Seeing the hurt I had caused made me feel
instantly remorseful for the careless words I had uttered.

I averted my eyes, for I could not bear seeing the pain I had caused him.

Yet, he would not allow it and gently but firmly, turned my head to meet his gaze again.
Love and adoration had replaced the hurt I had just seen causing tears to sting my eyes.

“Beloved, if I had but one word to describe beauty, I would use it to speak your name.
Your soul shines so brightly to all those around you that everything else pales in
comparison. As you have said many times, these broken bodies of ours hold
no meaning. Their only purpose is to be a vessel for the soul and they have fulfilled
this task greatly. It is our souls that found one another; it is our souls that joined. Death cannot
separate us, for the spirit never dies.” he said with great authority.
I knew his words were true and felt deep regret that I was careless with my own. I brushed
my lips against his then captured one then the other until our passion grew.

Laying in bed, embracing one anothers love they
loved each other, held each other, until sleep finally
knocked. Their lovemaking was always extraordinary, but this was truly
magnificent and fulfilling for both of them. Her husband gathered her
tightly in his embrace and she snuggled into his chest where the beat of
his heart lulled her into a deep steady sleep. He watched her sleep for
as long as he could keep his eyes open. Finally, he succumb to exhaustion
falling fast asleep.

This was their last night together but they
did not know it.
This was their final lovemaking but they
did not know it.
This was the last time he would hold her in his arms
but he did not know it.
So they enjoyed each other thoroughly,
loved each other, shared in each other’s delights, confessed all
their love to one another as if this was their final moment together as they always did.
Love cannot be bound by human finite parameters. Love
is eternal, love is enduring, Love is steadfast and love is wisdom
if you have found your soul mate.