The Family of Man

The Family of Man

What be this that we seek.  To know that love of family. Or love of the family of man.  We spend our time looking for that which be unknown.  When what we seek be that which our searching does not reveal.  Be it our own blood or that of our undiscovered family. 

Who is to say where or why we are chosen.  Yet as brothers and sisters brought into this world we know not each other.  Could one say that we are of the same blood; why then is our search not over.  What is this that we seek, the undiscovered family.

Yes, the family that is of our blood; but what of the care of the family of man.  Torn and tattered lay, cared for by whom if not one of us.  Yet are we so consumed with our own search; that we see not, those that may not be our blood . 

Brush away the clouds so that you might see, that which lay broken at your feet.  Bind up their wounds, for their battles be our battles.  Shelter them as a brother would his brother.  Feed them and dress them as you are.  And in this give them your strength.  Find you now that which was your undiscovered family.  The family of man, discovered…

©2011 Words the Windows to the Soul

The Tree line

The Tree Line

 

High above the tree line the mountain stands alone. To know the

peace of silence one must wish it so.  Hear these 

words I give thee.  Not all can bear the solitude to be one with the 

mountain. To witness the magic, one must breathe the air.  You say 

to me what manner of beauty exists in this, the thin air 

above the tree line.  I tell thee this until one sees the little flowers 

that cling to life that lay buried beneath the snow; till spring comes

and the water flows. The beauty seen, as if hands join each other in

the embrace of solitude.  Then one realizes you are never truly 

alone, high above the tree line; the Master Builder smiles, for His

gift given, the peace of silence which brings beauty to the soul

above the tree line...

 ©2008 2011 Words the Windows to the Soul

    

Man's Power.

Man's Power

What drives a man to seek such a task in the Autumn of his life. Be this which be the power of his soul; or the Light that guides him.  Bemoan we do of our life's path; yet to weather any storm we call upon that which provides the Light that guides us. Be it greatness we seek; or be it the power in his soul that will not surrender.  Down these lonely highways with only two wheels and our legs that move us.  Our body speaks wracked with the pain; of that which be the path chosen.  Yet the power of the soul ever onward moves us.  The Light of the soul; man's power will not yield... 

©2011 Words the Windows to the Soul

Homeless Veteran

 Homeless Veteran

Stand alone these men of honor, in the shadow of a tree.  Wonder you why does this man of honor stand alone.  Beneath this great oak; stands a man who stood when others would not.  Clothes tattered, as is his mind torn and shredded as he stands.  For this is one that heard his country’s call and he did answer. 

How be it then no one hears his plea.  This plea is not spoken, for his pride is greater than his hunger.  He seeks not charity nor a hand out. This man of honor stands waiting; for the remembering.  The demons prevent his sleep, his tormented soul sleeps upon the ground.  The leaves from the great oak tree are his pillow.  The news from yesterday covers him as if a blanket. 

Yet people walk by, no offer of help is made, just a scowl and a turn of the head. Uttering words as they pass by, but not loud enough for his ears to hear it. Cruel and harsh are these that have never served.  Yet enjoy they do the freedom, and fortune purchased by the blood of these men of honor.  These that heard their country’s call with no regard for life or limb.  And for this he is called, hopeless and a bum.

Thought of as an eyesore, a blight on the beauty of their city.  But I tell thee this that he is a hero.  For this man of honor be not lazy nor is he hopeless, nor a bum.  His demons may have damaged the mind.  But not the soul, his heart still beats with love of God and Country. Yet his name is added to that list of which be called the homeless veteran; and by our shame, the list grows ever longer.

©2009 2011 Words the Windows to the Soul 

Ride America

Ride America
The men and women that have worn the uniform of this great nation.  Have fought in the name of America.  Only to find when they return; another battle awaits them.  After facing death in combat; they must now come home and fight again.  For their families; and the right to support them.  Veterans come home to find no job waiting for them; just the debt of serving their county.  Still this be seen every day, families destroyed not by gunfire but by the lack of money. Hopeless, no the fight continues; I know this all to well, that is why Ride America must succeed.  It is said that the Veterans have lost their taste for fight.  Yet this is one Veteran that has and will not quit, ever; Ride America...

It has been said that I have to much experience for this job.  I have heard every reason that exists and still unemployed.  Yet I have not lost hope; for a challenge has been made.  And accept I shall, for this be something; or so I have been told, again  "you are to old, and out of shape"; and indeed in this my experience is somewhat lacking, as I have not been on a bicycle in 40 years. So Ride America I shall.  I have no trainer, trip planner, or anyone to locate sponsors.  Some will say I have lost my mind and indeed they have done so already.  Yet never tell a Marine or any Veteran  what he or she can't do.  

© 2011 Word the Windows to the Soul