Origins

December 7

ORIGINS

Pain-filled interactions with people better suited to be left alone changed me in the way of acceptance.  Wretched relationships with people made it difficult for me to have a loving relationship with the world.  I had imprinted as a fledgling on sarcasm and ridicule, bitter milk that starved my expectations of kind response.  I could not greet the world eagerly.  Having never embraced the world I failed to hang on as it turned.  I slid on my face and hands.  Mud covered, I try to keep an open mind and attempt a connection with this spinning orb.

Color your emotions.

*

Flight 548

What a happy flight wing to wing,

smiles, good cheer, the air is kind,

sweet, dry, easy to breathe.

I am so blessed.

I fly to destiny

watching the traveling baby circus

play around me.

Giggles and drool surround me,

infuse me with glee.

People wander the isle

looking like well loved characters

from long forgotten books and we soar.

Time does not pass any more quickly this way,

but it is similar to time in heaven

rather than time spent in hell.

Vlog: http://youtu.be/3cbyYoE_W-E

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Currency of Fear

July 2

CURRENCY OF FEAR

Fear pays the way for my disease to enter.  Once inside fear seats itself front and center.  Fear is the currency that allows entry to the far reaches.  The coinage is ancient and steeped in tradition.  There is no time or place that hasn’t been moneyed with fear and its derivatives.  I can’t hide from it so my job must be to educate fear.  Fear is real and has a place as protector and warning.  But fear expands with ignorance and devalues the purpose of caution.  Fear cannot buy safety, though I can use it to pay the toll across the bridge to balance.

Speckle your tongue with new words.

*

Origins

At the root of it all is darkness.

The place from which I grow,

the structure that holds me fiercely upright,

is pressed on all sides by dirt.

When I get right down to it the ethereal leaves

and twigs, even the branches, do not exist,

except for my foundation in the composted death

and recycled life; the ground.

For is it God who rains down from the heavens

light and water or is God truly living

at the center of the earth,

warming my toes and securing me to what is real.

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Origins

July 4

Origins

At the root of it all is darkness.  The place from which I grow, the structure that holds me fiercely upright, is pressed on all sides by dirt.  When I get right down to it the ethereal leaves and twigs even the branches, do not exist, except for my foundation in the composted death and recycled life; the ground.  For is it G-d who rains down from the heavens light and water or is G-d truly living at the center of the earth, warming my toes and securing me to what is real.  

Use a mirror for words on the tip of your tongue

*

KEY

I asked for the key to my problems.

My expectation was a metal instrument

With which to unbolt the lock to my desires.

What I was given is a systematic explanation

Of the symbols of the plan of my life.

This has been a wonderful gift

And I have benefited greatly.

But first I have to stop brooding

About the loss of my wished for trinket.

Putting names on my map helps me

Stay off cliffs and out of rivers

The code is broken

I can decipher direction and intent

The composition of life’s offerings

Fit and harmonize in unimagined ways.

It creates archways strong and unbending

Giving me access to reefs of beauty and rest.

I asked for the means to open a door

But gained entry to the world.

Origins

December 7

ORIGINS

Pain-filled interactions with people better suited to be left alone changed me in the way of acceptance.  Wretched relationships with people made it difficult for me to have a loving relationship with the world.  I had imprinted as a fledgling on sarcasm and ridicule, bitter milk that starved my expectations of kind response.  I could not greet the world eagerly.  Having never embraced the world I failed to hang on as it turned.  I slid on my face and hands.  Mud covered, I try to keep an open mind and attempt a connection with this spinning orb.

Color your emotions.

*

Flight 548

What a happy flight wing to wing,

smiles, good cheer, the air is kind,

sweet, dry, easy to breathe.

I am so blessed.

I fly to destiny

watching the traveling baby circus

play around me.

Giggles and drool surround me,

infuse me with glee.

People wander the isle

looking like well loved characters

from long forgotten books and we soar.

Time does not pass any more quickly this way,

but it is similar to time in heaven

rather than time spent in hell.

Currency of Fear

July 2

CURRENCY OF FEAR

Fear pays the way for my disease to enter.  Once inside fear seats itself front and center.  Fear is the currency that allows entry to the far reaches.  The coinage is ancient and steeped in tradition.  There is no time or place that hasn’t been moneyed with fear and its derivatives.  I can’t hide from it so my job must be to educate fear.  Fear is real and has a place as protector and warning.  But fear expands with ignorance and devalues the purpose of caution.  Fear cannot buy safety, though I can use it to pay the toll across the bridge to balance.

Speckle your tongue with new words.

*

Origins

At the root of it all is darkness.

The place from which I grow,

the structure that holds me fiercely upright,

is pressed on all sides by dirt.

When I get right down to it the ethereal leaves

and twigs, even the branches, do not exist,

except for my foundation in the composted death

and recycled life; the ground.

For is it God who rains down from the heavens

light and water or is God truly living

at the center of the earth,

warming my toes and securing me to what is real.

Origins

July 4

Origins

At the root of it all is darkness. The place from which I grow, the structure that holds me fiercely upright, is pressed on all sides by dirt. When I get right down to it the ethereal leaves and twigs even the branches, do not exist, except for my foundation in the composted death and recycled life; the ground. For is it G-d who rains down from the heavens light and water or is G-d truly living at the center of the earth, warming my toes and securing me to what is real.

Use a mirror for words on the tip of your tongue

*

KEY

I asked for the key to my problems.

My expectation was a metal instrument

With which to unbolt the lock to my desires.

What I was given is a systematic explanation

Of the symbols of the plan of my life.

This has been a wonderful gift

And I have benefited greatly.

But first I have to stop brooding

About the loss of my wished for trinket.

Putting names on my map helps me

Stay off cliffs and out of rivers

The code is broken

I can decipher direction and intent

The composition of life’s offerings

Fit and harmonize in unimagined ways.

It creates archways strong and unbending

Giving me access to reefs of beauty and rest.

I asked for the means to open a door

But gained entry to the world.