Love

I am reading a book, entitled ; “Silence, (in the age of noise.)” Written by: Erline Kagge, he asked Mark Juncosa , “When I asked Mark Juncosa, one of the minds behind Musk’s space programme, whether he ever has the chance to think out the ideas that could revolutionize the rocket industry, he replied: “A normal work day at best contains eight hours of meetings, a few hours to respond to emails. It all blurs together. The only time to shut out the world is when I exercise, surf, take a shower or sit on the toilet. That’s when new solutions surface.”

Excerpt From
Silence
Erling Kagge & Becky L. Crook
https://books.apple.com/us/book/silence/id1217089376
This material may be protected by copyright.

To make my point, a song came to me taking a shower, it came so quickly, I could only step outside to grab a piece of paper and pen and write it down, wet and smeared ink , I later copied it to Microsoft word.

The song was , “Whispered Prayer,” The music to the song was Written and Produced by Christine McNeill-Matteson, Music Written and Performed by Kip Haaheim ,Vocals by Katie Bieber.

First published in “Pieces of Divine Masterpieces: Poet’s Voice, Agathos: An International Review of Humanities and Social Science. ”

To affirm, Mark Juncosa , (Chief Engineer at Space X, ) in his interview with Erline Kragge, “Silence “; polished and copyrighted by, Pantheon, a division of Random House, LLC, 2017.

I get it.” Bob Dylan gets it, as he explains in a 60 minute interview, most artist gets it.

Free your space, and let creativity come to you. Find your ‘silence.’

Below the song…

Dancing in Grandma’s Kitchen: A Nostalgic Memory

eagleandchildinklingMarch 3 I step into the wind. I cry among the trees. The leaves dance ahead. As if they want to tease. I feel the sun rise. Pressing on my face I bath in the colors. I am hugged by nature’s grace. I push forward when tired. The discomfort goes away. Because i know I am strong I will take the steps today. Stay with me will of nature. Give to me your life. You have been my strength. You have rooted in my strife.

Copyright : 2024. CMM

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I woke this morning on my birthday and one of the things I knew for sure was, I was going to make scones (Scottish heritage) and I wanted to run.  The weather has turned warmer, and the sun was once again shinning.  I tied my shoes and watched the clock as I knew it was going to take some self-convincing.

As I started to leave the phone rang.  It was Jonathan wishing me Happy Birthday and he wanted to talk.  I told him, we could talk as I go so, I would still have enough time to run and get back to pick up my grandson Keagan.    

He said, I could call him back after the run.  I said, sure, that would be lovely. Then he said, “Mom, please be careful.”  “Mom, be safe out there today.”  I reassured him it was in the middle of the day and where I ran there was almost no one around, yet it was safe. 

Then he repeated it, we said, I love you, and hung up.  

When I got to the parking space and shut down the car, I thought about his caution about being careful.  I thought to myself, he never says that with all the running I have done over the years.  I turned on my watch and phone and starting thinking about some other things instead.  

I started up what the children and I termed over the years, ‘killer’s hill,’ Skeeter is buried there (or his ashes.). As I ran, as usual I talk to God/universe, and then observe the trees and melted snow.  The cottonwood is so lovely with the white bark and barren limbs.  Although havoc to my head in the spring.  Everything is visible, but isn’t that the way it is with life, as we get older.  The foliage falls away and the person we are starts to reveal our limbs and our knots. 

Then up to where I could turn and start back and hills are finally with me, not against me.  As I get closer to the end of the road where I will turn right to head toward the firing range, and eventually the airfield and back to 7^thbrick and the car.  

Running toward the stop sign where I would turn to take the road back as I described.  I hear a loud truck, and I thought, lovely, not.  I of course, was running against the direction of traffic (although there was none). He was about parallel to me as I came closer to the stop sign.

Suddenly, he started sounding his horn, and he did not let up.  I thought, what, what is he doing.  Then everything that happened from this point on can be defined as seconds, or almost instantaneous.  I am now almost level to his cab, and I decided with his holding his horn down I will sprint out ahead and get out of the way.  

As I forged ahead, he starts hitting the horn louder and harder and faster.  I looked up at him, and then it was when I saw a speeding blue sedan turning left and going straight at me, and at the same time trying to start breaking.  I veered to my left as he swerved to my right (his left), coming close to the large sanitation truck’s cab.  He swayed to the middle of the road and continued.  I was clearly stunned, and I looked up at the driver who was looking at me, and I put my hand over my heart and said thank you.  He paused, smiled from the truck, and waved a few times…

The blue car never stopped and had disappeared.  I started to run again.  As I ran, I started processing what had happened.  I thought to myself, I wonder if that gentleman will go to bed tonight and say, “I saved a life today.”  I tried not to cry at that moment and kept going.  

I went back to Jonathan’s words, “Mom, be careful, Mom, be safe.”  I knew it was something different with his words of caution.  I finally had completed the 5 ½ miles, arrived at the car.  I decided it was my birthday n I had a free scooter, and I would get it on the way home.  

I drove up to the window and ordered it.  The lovely African American lady came to the window, and it was slow.  While it was being made, she asked if I had just run.  I told her, yes.

Then I shared what had happened on the run.  I also shared what my son had said, and how it resonated with me, and then this gentleman that fought so hard with his truck horn to keep me from getting hit.  How Jonathan, had seemingly said, ‘a caution prayer, ‘of which he has never done in all the years I have been running.

As, she handed me the drink, she quoted William Cowper’s Hymn that was later published by John Newton, ‘in his 26 Letters on Religious Subjects, to which are added hymns. 

“God moves in a mysterious way, 

His wonders to perform,” 

When I returned home, I shared with Jonathan and then I looked up the rest of the poem. 

I share:

God moves in a mysterious way,
    His wonders to perform.
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
    And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
    Of never-failing skill.
He treasures up his bright designs,
    And works His sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints’ fresh courage take,
    The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break.
    In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
    But trust him for his grace.
Behind a frowning providence,
    He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,
    Unfolding ev’ry hour.
The bud may have a bitter taste,
    But sweet will be the flow’r.

Blind unbelief is sure to err,
    And scan his work in vain.
God is his own interpreter,
    And he will make it plain.[3]

“God moves in a mysterious way, 

His wonders to perform,” —William Cowper Poem

A blessed and warm Martin Luther King Day.  I so remember when I was a tiny child picking up my brilliant Uncle with the Grandparents.    I know it was the first time I had been to the train station.  I was a reader and I read early.  I remember distinctly needing to go to the restroom.  I wandered into the restroom, and I read over the door, whites only.  I thought to myself, what does that mean?  I even questioned if that was the case where did the other people go?  It was a deep feeling and just the beginning of many such experiences in the south.  

I reared my children to never see color, but character.  They still base their friendships on this premise.  

I run in the morning

It makes sense

As human nature

Fails us, and the universe

Pales from smoke

Water is dried by tears.

CMM

Give them out for all.

Set them next to the children.

To listen as they call.

Lead them from the rubble.

Protect them from the fear.

Of fires and loud noises

As nighttime draws them near

Go gather all the dragons.

Herd them toward the child

Bring them back to safety.

So, we can sit a while.

I will clean the mud from war.

Wash the dry crusted tears.

Read you of the green dragon.

Who promised you no more fears?

copyright: CMM. 2023

I roll the dough between my hands

The crumbs drop off into the pan.

I was drawn to a kitchen from long ago

My Scottish Grandma , I remember so.

Hands with a dish towel she rang ,

I remember how often she sang.

Amazing Grace, she chorused the home.

Scottish aired from her among the scones.

The whirl of the smell drifted toward me.

I in my memory can still see .

©️CMM 2023