The Long Black Wall

The long black wall, covered with names.
The dead and the missing, as they play thier war games.

Walking down the list brings to mind the young mens toll.
The list goes on and on of the healthy, courageous soul.

A brother, son or father. A Sister, Daughter too.
Youngsters lives cut short, living years too few.

There stands the long black wall, of the missing and the dead.
Of a was unacknowledged, a witness of confusion, fear and dread.

Does War Justify the justify the loved one lost?
Can war justify the cost?

The veterans left to live it out,
Maimed mentally and physically, within and without.

Stand at attention at the wall,
Catching the loved ones when they fall.

These men of valor, strong and true, still giving their time and strength,
To their Nation of Red, White and Blue.

Many lives were wasted, many lives were saved.
All that is left for us to see, Are the names on the wall....DEEPLY ENGRAVED

Thoughts on the secret of success

Believe in yourself, and trust that God believes in you too.
Have the courage to reach beyond what you can see.
Have the fortitude to walk farther that you thought possible.
Have the motivation to seek new experiences each day.
Believe in yourself..........While keeping close to your God.
As you reach and seek and pray.

Get over the fear of life, then work to get over the fear of afterlife.


Financial success....Do as God tells you to do and He will open avenues of industry, He will open ways to enable you to make a living for all your needs, as well as supply that which God would have you do, as surely as water runs down hill.


When healing through the spirit, we must remember that God almighty is spirit and must be worshiped in spirit. God is spirit and man was made in His image and likeness.
Man is also spirit and must be healed through spirit. We are not healing the body, we are healing
the spirit. The healing comes as we acknowledge the perfection of the spirit of God. We simply
ignore the material body which man has created.

There is rising within me, that Christ Consciousness, That supplies all my needs within my
Body, Mind and Soul.

When you are under the influence of any disease-- repeat-- "I am divine perfection: I live, move and have my being in God." These words repeated over and over will destroy the manifestation of disease.

Another leaf falls

A leaf falls, to the earth each day,
A human body, falls in much the same way.

The tree and all its branches, gives strength to the leaves of green.
The family tree of human kind, great is the strength of a creator unseen.

One leaf at a time, falls gently to the earth,
relinquishing its strength, to give the young rebirth.

Just as the leaf, our bodies return to dust, leaving the tree of life behind us.
Our spirits to ascend, as in our creator, we put our trust.

The branches overloaded, the old leaf falls away.
The trunk gives its strength, to the young leaf's life,

Nudging the old leaf, releasing it from its existing strife.

Hope

Hope is like a silver thread, full of strength, yet so easily broken.
Hope stands at the edge, like a shiny token,
Hope is like a glimmering light, sometimes weak, sometimes bright.
Hope stands ready, when all seems lost,
Standing in the gap, when seas are tossed.
Hope gives its light, sending its shining ray.
Hope stands watching, when the hopless pray.

Miracle of a Mustard Seed

You promised me, If I would have faith, the size of a mustard seed.
All things would be possible, and I would have all the faith I need.
So, when trials came upon me, and my faith was sorely tried,
I called upon you, Jesus, Then remembered when I cried,
I called upon your promise, knowing my faith was small,
Asking to give me courage and strength, as I feared a dreadful fall.
As my prayers were answered, and my faith approved,
My heart was overwhelmed with gratefulness, and I realized again,
How great your love for mankind has proved.
What gigantic faith it takes to heal a child, and bless a human blind,
Releasing darkness from the heart, and calling out the demons, to cure a feeble mind.
When all I can muster, is a faith so very small,
Calling on your power, to help us one and all.
Thank you for the promise, for a faith as small as mine,
That it can be granted, as small as a mustard seed,
Created by a hand as great a thine.

The Staff

Our lives are like a wooden staff, all bright and shiny new.
Then heat and cold and waves of time, leaves its residue.
What started out, as a young new limb, ended up, withered, with eyes that are dim.
The staff was found beside a new oak tree, by a youthful lad, of only three.
He brought it home for his father to make, a staff for leaning, that would not break.
As the youth advanced, to his teen age years,
His staff showed the pain, of his heartache and tears.
A small little crack at the crook, by the hand, felt the weight of the boy,
But both continued to stand.
The man was a father, with weights on his mind, Responsibilities galore, but still he was kind.
The cracks became llonger, and the cracks were not few.
The staff became darker, not so bright, not so new.
The man and the staff, both felt the weight, both carried it well.
Both marred by the heat, and the aches of artritis,
Made both the man and the staff, begin to swell.
The man became fifty, and looked back on his life.
He'd weathered many storms, had his share of strife.
The staff became fifty, recognizing the hand,
As it learned on him harder, but he'd come to understand.
The staff was smoother, not so rough to the touch.
But still strong and able, after going through much.
The hair is now white, the children are grown.
The staff becomes weaker, as it creaks and it groans.
Yes, our lives remind us of that tired old staff.
Memories that make us cry, then make us laugh.
The staff that once was young and strong, grows weak and waxes old.
Waiting by the bedroom door, listening for the footsteps, to be held, just once more.