Linda Steward…a kind soul…an angel

sunset

sunset (Photo credit: Moyan_Brenn)

My cell phone rang and it did not portend

As I hit the click to hear the voice on the other end

Speaking of trivial details of everyday life

And then…in the middle of it all…came the strife.

“Yeah, also Linda died today and I didn’t think she would have long…

She was here only two days and now she is gone.

And the other  woman…” as I did pale

On and on the words did trail…

For I was stuck on the name, “Linda,” for unknown to the other voice,

Linda has become my confidant of choice.

She had been my telephone  friend for the last year,

The one I could call, no matter the time, to give me cheer.

Resurrected friend from childhood she was, a wonderful friend of all the ladies,

Despite her battle with lupus, diabetes, arthritis and host of all maladies,

An arched back and who walked with two canes,

She found it within herself to come to the Mass for Jimmy, despite her pain.

She came out of respect and sympathy for her friend, Barbara, Jimmy’s Mom and my sister,

Who was lying in the hospital bed dying in an ironic, respiratory twister.

As though her heartfelt presence was not enough of genuine care

She had prepared several dishes of food for the affair

Linda, who punctuated my late empty nights with words of encouragement,

Helping me to laugh amid my tears, ridding me of despairing fragments.

Linda, who had regressed from canes to a wheelchair and had suffered an accident in her home.

Within two weeks of the accident, her frail body gave way, she was only on loan.

She died…but now before she gave her all…

Life, hope, laughter was her call.

And now her beautiful, kind spirit is gone from this world

Beckoning us forward to kind deeds to unfurl.

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romance

English: Rubinstein Romance op44-1 page3

English: Rubinstein Romance op44-1 page3 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

piano petals

softly

invade your heart

carrying you

into your lover’s arms

dancing delightfully

into all of their charm

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

© 2012 Jane H. Johann and johannisthinking.wordpress.com
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jane H. Johann and johannisthinking.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

love

(from author) "Sand, silt, clay and organ...

(from author) “Sand, silt, clay and organic matter bind together to provide stucture to the soil. The individual units of structure are called peds.” (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

human clay

dried up

slipping away

despairing creature

grab hold of the Truth

allow the Hand to mold you

ground into the Being of God

open yourself

let the healing waters pour in

shape you

strengthen you

make you solid

like rock

live in love

 

 

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© 2011 Jane H. Johann and johannisthinking.wordpress.com
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jane H. Johann and johannisthinking.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

What does it matter?

English: Projected density plot of a redshift ...

English: Projected density plot of a redshift z=2.5 dark matter halo from a cosmological N-body simulation. The visible part of the galaxy (not shown in the image) lies at the dense centre of the halo and has a diameter of roughly 20 kiloparsecs. There are also many satellite galaxies, each with its own subhalo which is visible as a region of high dark matter density in the image. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

What does it matter if we are Black, Yellow, Red or White?

What does matter is we allow each other human rights.

What does it matter–if we are Sikh or Muslim? Universalist or Atheist?  Christian, Jew. or Lutheran?

What does matter is that love is our anthem!

We all come from the ONE above…

The One who perpetuates all with generosity and love

What does matter is acceptance of one another

What does matter that I can name you sister and brother

Single, married, divorced, gay or straight

What matters is that love is the gate

Suffering has taken its toll on too many

Out of suffering we lash and spend our last penny

Delve within and seek the truth

Allow love to be the giving booth

Listen deep within the quiet

Breath of the Spirit– our soul’s sonnet

And now…she is DEAD

Babbling

Babbling (Photo credit: Phillie Casablanca)

For ALL those who have been Abused by Those Who Wore the Holy Cloth. For ALL those who cannot understand what it does to a Child. Allow that CHILD to express his or her inner pain. Assure them and listen to them until they feel no shame. Protect the CHILD and hold them tenderly in your arms. Protect your CHILD and keep them from all harm. For those who have been abused…Do NOT allow the pain to continue…YOU are SOMEONE….YOU are a CHILD of GOD…You are LOVED…Yahweh holds you tenderly within!

The fateful night and day is long over

I, her student, she, my teacher…in the education clover

I saw her several times over the years

Though inside ravishing with tears

I sought her out to confront her

But in her presence, I was like the smoke of myrhh

She talked as though nothing had taken place between us

She spoke and we exchanged nods in a vacuum amid the buzz

Mostly, I listened…halfway… as she babbled on about her life

While at each visit, I sat and looked at her with hate amid my strife

Wanting to shout at  her what she did to my life, the loathing I felt for myself

Wanting to confront her, and tell her how my worth was put on a shelf

Alas, I could not bring myself to utter the words

My inner esteem crumbled to curds

Even then she held some power over my being

I did not want to hurt her, as she had hurt me, so it seemed

Yet, it was not love but fear

That kept me from throwing the spear

And now SHE is DEAD

And I am left with the threads

+

She got away with murder

Because she was a charmer

The boulder of her need

 Outweighed her love of me

Innocence was lost that night

Sucked out and destroyed on sight

Forty years my senior

She destroyed who I was with her demeanor

+

No one to counsel me

No one to set me free

On her merry way she went

Leaving me with my faith spent

Till anger built in me so

That to the Confessor I did go

Only to have the tomb placed on me

Defiled and rotten, his words to me

+

How much free rent did her deed take up in my brain?

How much did the inner confidence wane?

Each time authority came my way–

I felt diminished with no say.

My tongue was tied, frozen in place…

For myself, I could make no case.

How much power did I give her over the years?

How much joy did she steal from me amid all my tears?

How much fear did it bury me with?

How many times did I think I was nuclear waste–it was no myth.

While she bathed in the glory of those who loved her with glee

They feasted her on her 60th GOLDEN JUBILEE

A holy woman, a woman who dedicated herself to God

The paper gave her the column of praise…while through the dung I did plod

And now SHE is DEAD

I am left with the threads

Two years ago, I accidently saw her

Sitting in her wheelchair, coiled like an adder

Her brain frozen and she was still babbling on

I looked at her, no longer a pawn

And I felt nothing…no pity…nothing lefy to conjure

Her mind had been ravished by nature

She had the same condescending, sinister look…

She was a hollow being, even at ninety, an evil book

All the years of religiosity did not purify her

Even as helpless as she was, no remorse did it stir

She still held a disdainful look for all those about

Her false superiority came through her nonsensical words as she would shout

An apology would never come from her

She was an accomplished musician and still an anchor

For it was me who was tossed into the sea and drowned

The millstone hung so strong

By those who professed their faith many a day long

A charismatic teacher and loved by all

Inside she was hollow and empty, a useless call

And now SHE  is DEAD

And I …a worn thread

And now… AM  I FREE?

Can I loosen the grip she had on me?

Forgive but not forget

Frogive Forgive Forgive with no regret

For someone along the way must have hurt her

For someone along the way her senses blurred

And now SHE is DEAD

Wanting FREDOM in my heart and head