Saturday, February 23, 2013

Mount Up

We ride. Regardless of inclement weather. No matter blistered butts, chafed thighs, or weary bones-- we ride. There are hypothetical garrisons to relief, troops to reinforce, or enemies to be engaged. More practically, there are pumps to be primed, mail to deliver, bacon to bring home. There are babies to tend, adolescents to guide, elderly to comfort--so we ride. And if all we can muster is a paean that is "cold and broken" let it be so. Though heavy of heart and feeble in faith, mount up. The word on our lips is still "hallelujah" and that will suffice. We ride.

*Anne Marie Murphy

Friday, February 22, 2013

The Baffled King

What more fitting on such an auspicious day? All roads lead to the same cul-de-sac.

"...her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya."

*Dawn Hochsprung

Monday, February 18, 2013


Wow...there is no traffic on this blog site. I wonder what to make of that. Do I continue to indulge myself? As happy with it (the blog) as I am, and proud of the content, what point is there talking to myself? I have said follow your dream and don't worry about results---and that is true enough. Still, if the word goes forth and no one hears it, it simply dies on the wind. Mores the pity...

Where is this dance
And how is it done

What of the music
Laughter and fun

Who is the maestro
In charge of this tune

Why aren't there rainbows
And a promise of June

When is there rhythm
Or balance to glide

How does one locate
The currents to ride

To feel an expression
Of moon, star or sun...

Where is this dance
And how is it done


*Rachel D'Avino