The Alabaster Box is a reflective journey of a life spent in search for the very elusive God of salvation. Is such a God knowable or does such a God exists? Only questions survive the Alabaster narrative because there is no true answer. What is true, however, is that finding God is a personal encounter and one that defies mortal expressions.
This man was my father, a man I knew very well. A man I knew my entire life, a man who made indelible marks on the character of my life for all the years of my life, a man that I have loved beyond measure. He gave me the best of himself. A man who I was always only an arm’s length away from. This man I called Father. Pops as we sometimes called him in his later years, was…
It was only yesterday that you held me in your arms and marveled at my pouting lips, my chubby cheeks. You were enchanted by my wisps of hair and wondered why blonde, but then you remembered my mother’s bloodline and smiled; it would pass as the proper me emerge. So many years later I hold you in my arms and marvel at how fragile you had become, how vulnerable; your brown eyes are devouring…
Oh my father, if I walk with you how far can I venture? I see the road you are on. A road you have never traveled, nor I, I want to come with you because I don’t want you to be alone or feel nervous, Can I come my father? After all these years you are going on a journey without me, me your constant companion, we traveled the high hills and the low plains, we traveled the winding roads…
WATCH, LOOK, LISTEN, PRAY Ride the wind, feel the vibrations. God is with us . The wind brings news The trees bend their leafy ears to listen, they move from side to side and up and down with joy, They say it’s the wind gust, I say it’s the joyful news that God is with us. cc: lmh 3/28/17
When souls collide on Earth Angels recoil behind clouds in anguish and shame. they wish they had souls, while here we act vile and disregard one another. we revile the gift of choice, which is the gift of soul the sum total of eternal love. lmh. 2017.24/3
From its perch, the pigeons see everything. Wish I could talk “Pigeon” or “International Bird”, Alas! I have only English. The pigeons understand English very well I don’t speak local Pigeonese. The rats speak and understand English but they need bribes because They don’t care who is in charge or who the real immigrants are. The rats won’t speak because they are indifferent to the situation. The street people are like the rats, jaded and despairing they turn away…
It is raining. I am not permitted to bring back the Sun. I have no power. Consider the lilies. Their beauty is power. I keep searching for my power. Consider my eyes. They have power. Their power is my joy. I keep searching. I have no power of my own source. Consider the seasons: Summer winter spring and fall. Their power is in my many moods. The power of food- How convenient. My teeth rejoice. Consider…