Thursday, April 28, 2016

Mothers Day is Coming


So many things to say - so little time. Since I am juggling three projects, two of which have deadlines thus my free writing time is scarce. Just to keep things moving, so folks won’t wonder if I’ve finally made good my long standing promise to quit,  today I’m going to repost a favorite from last year. :-)

Be Blessed.

For Him,
Meema




Saturday, April 9, 2016

Spring on Trinity Pond

After living on a ginormous lake for sixteen years, we downsized to a two acre pond nine years ago. Water people must be near water. It’a a natural law... or something. No doubt pond life is somewhat different from lake life. It’s more intimate, for one thing. The drama is more in your face. 

But the drama is also inspirational to a writer so I’ve written about the cycles of birth and death unfolding season to season as though presented in a naturalist’s theater, and the ever changing but staying the same dynamics of the wild life that calls the pond home. 


The Canadian geese are dominate characters. Some years the mother and father goose, who claim the island long before winter is done frosting up the edges, for their annual batch of eggs to incubate, beat the odds and win the struggle to procreate; their babes survive. Some years something intervenes, usually a hawk, but sometimes an unknown, mysterious-ness lurking underneath the water’s surface or sneaking up on four legs, picks the newbies off. 

Then there was the year the eggs simply did not hatch. The mother goose stayed on the nest, confused, for several weeks past gestation time, until her mate and the rest of the gaggle convinced her to abandon them. One might think a goose would not be able to express grief but she came back over and over again all summer to check, maybe, just maybe. Her body language was undeniable. Clearly grief is an emotion not exclusive to humans. 

The mother Killdeer lays her eggs on the eastern slope. Every. Year. And every year I seek out her nest and mark it with a stake so the mower knows where to avoid. She squawks at me and does her running broken wing flop impression, “Look! Look at me I’m injured, pay no attention to the eggs! You can get me!” 

Such drama. 

Some years the eggs get overlooked and the new Killdeers hatch running and chirping to the water’s edge. Other years, like this one, the stake keeps death by mower blades at bay but something else, likely the hawk waiting patiently for the goslings to hatch, has an appetizer of four speckled eggs. One day they were there, next day not a trace. 

Nature seems so cruel, by our human sensibilities, however while I find justification for putting out a stake to keep the nest from being mindlessly destroyed, I’d never interfere with nature’s grand design regardless how ruthless it seems to the fine-tuned evolved compassionate mind because I'm pretty sure the Sovereign Creator doesn’t need my help in regards to natural law. The hawk has to eat too though I admit the idea annoys me. Still...

And thus I’m merely a spectator soaking up the inspiration in daily awe of God’s amazing creation.

In 2008 my granddaughter had a poetry assignment for her Language Arts class. I told her that prose is one thing and can come out of nowhere but poetry is birthed from deep observation and suggested she write about the pond. And so she did.

The Face of the Pond
©2008 Olivia Hoey

In man-made world there is a native place,
All raw and full of seen and unseen life,
Both fowl and fern reside in an ageless grace,
They live and die by wit or strength or strife.

There is a rhythm and a natural song,
The harmony builds the voice of the pond.
The waters feed and protect all year long,
Splash, leap, all creatures live in common bond.

Frogs croak from under lily pads, wind blows,
Waters trickle, ripple, lap, rise and fall.
Storm rain stirs and the tranquil surface flows,
Fragile world in fear of the threat to all.

But when the fury and the flash is done,
They carry on with what they have begun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How inspiring is that?

For Him,

Meema

Wednesday, April 6, 2016

Image of the Beast

(Revelation 13:14) And he deceiveth them that dwell on the earth by reason of the signs which it was given him to do in the sight of the beast; saying to them that dwell on the earth, that they should make an image to the beast who hath the stroke of the sword and lived.  (13:15) And it was given [unto him] to give breath to it, [even] to the image to the beast, that the image of the beast should both speak, and cause that as many as should not worship the image of the beast should be killed.  

This one is likely to get me in trouble but though I hate to be the sounder of the alarm, I am well past the point of holding back what ought to be said for fear of offending or confusing. I’m not doing this for applause anyway. Further, I’m not expecting a consensus on this topic either. In fact, I will be shocked if anyone even understands what I am trying to sound the alarm about. Outlier is one of my many middle names. 

Just in case some might get it, this is for those.


------------------------

This morning, flipping through a well known home style magazine I came upon a full page ad. Full page - meaning margin to margin top to bottom. It was  a very dark photo of the side of a house centered around an HVAC unit. 

No big deal, right?

Well, yes it is a very big deal if one is paying attention to the growing shift of imagery from light to dark that is now seeping in around us in every way that visual stimulation and mindless impression can besiege and inundate us all day long. 

The big deal is not about the HVAC but the painting on the brick wall behind the HVAC–a giant red dragon whose menacing face appears to rest on the top of the condenser, which is the product and supposed reason for the page. 

So, it’s just an advertisement that is supposed to depict how this heat/air system quietly and forcefully resides within a house. Like a red dragon. Isn’t that what  everyone wants residing in our houses? 

Our minds? Our souls?

Unlike most advertisements that fill the page with words the image does all the talking. There are a few words but they are so small and faint in the upper left hand corner you need a magnifying glass to read them. The art really says it all and the point and innovative style is pretty slick if you’re thinking in artistic terms.

But if you’re looking with spiritual discernment the choice of imagery for delivering the message is so diabolical that only those will see the subliminal message who know how social engineering works through gentle persuasion via the ‘feeling senses’, through arousal of emotions, tapping into the sensual side instead of intuition or common sense side of human transformation.   

I’ve been watching these slow pullings for a long time now that coo rather than yell to attract interest to the dark side away from the light. Fascination with witches, demons, vampires presented in fiction as ‘misunderstood heroes’ until at last we have come to believe good is evil and evil is good. 

Even five years ago I would have hesitated to point out what I was already beginning to recognize because no one likes to be the grumpy nay-sayer all the time. It’s tiring. But I now see a rapid increase and it’s worrisome. Children  in the digital age receive indoctrination via all the visual stimulation poured out on them daily. No words needed. Well done, award winning animated movies and cartoons have been slipping into darker themes for some time now. But the dark is hidden inside light packaging so as not to scare the littles.

Where does it end? When is the conversion complete? Perhaps with the construction of monuments in 1000 major cities around the world, beginning with New York and London on April 19. Monuments honoring Baal, the god of child sacrifice. 

But, hey, it’s just art, right?

But the question is begged - is art an imitation of life or is it the other way around? 

For Him,

Meema