Birds In The Nest

The baby birds in the nest
Need their rest

Mama bird flies

At the sound of the their cries

Mama bird was not in a good mood

But she flew anyway to look for food

Up to the sky she flew

When you saw her feathers they were blue

Gathering up worms to eat

She would grab them with her feet

Back to the nest she went

The babies could smell her scent

All nestled and well fed

It was time for all to go to bed

(Written by my 11 yr old daughter JJ)

Copyright 2014 Wandering Satellite Publishing

Winding Is This Path Of Life

I have ambled on and through
Certain seasons of a lifetime
As for my vision now
I am always looking forward though

At times this path is smooth and paved

Or a rock strewn trail, up hills and then down
Through deserts, valleys of all sorts and mountainous peaks

There is always an older man though, who is here and there

Always behind me when I tend to glance back upon my path
Never do I seem to pass him on my travels
Nor do I look for him

He is of familiar face

He has played the hypocrite
Picked up the sword of the arrogant
Held hands with self righteousness
He has loved others and been loved
Loved when it is a sacrifice
Given to those in need
And befriended others

There is maturity etched in the lines of his forehead

His eyes glint with wisdom
Seasons, years and circumstances have altered me
My winding path continues on
And I pray daily to continue to see this old man
From time to time

Copyright 2014 Wandering Satellite Publishing

Elephant In The Room

You will not articulate
I will not verbalize
Yet there is a quandary
A state of uncertainty
But it always remains the same
It is always there

There are truths before us that lack discussion

But alas, they are in attendance
Days, months and for years
How many more?
Shame on me for believing
Blind to hope

I observe, or assumed you as one who is healing

But your tearing at the stitches is revealing
Maybe wisdom should prevail
Gentle as a dove, wise as a serpent
Setting tone and boundaries

I have decided to progress on

You, still wrapped in a blanket of unforgiveness
Emotional alienation is your armor
It is the unseen lumbering four legged beast
You carry from room to room

Copyright 2014 Wandering Satellite Publishing

Being Protocol

It’s a diplomatic love affair
A societal medium vacuum gone global
Slowly charming, swaying the masses
Conditioning man to stay contained within…
Slowly numbed and dumbed down
Political correctness and other schemas
Slowly strangling, forcing individuals ideals on others

Who sets this protocol, boundaries, and codes of procedure?

So called free thinkers, politicians, educators, the King Midas’s of the pulpit?
Themselves being deceived
Ever so slowly twisting, forcing their resolve, values
Through the spinning yarns of all sorts of social media
With the masses being spoon fed with veiled agendas

Despite all this

Man is waging wars far and wide
Pestilences and economies are on the precipice
Everything is in contravention
Lines are blurred and broken
We are all intertwined, but are blindfolded
But we someday, all will intersect

Copyright 2014 Wandering Satellite Publishing