The Luminous Child by Cheryl D. Wade M.D. is a fantasy account of how the universe and earth were created. A lot of the pictures throughout the book are from the Hubble Telescope. They are absolutely breathtaking. A very enlightening book for mythology and fantasy lovers.
๐ณ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐, ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ก๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐/ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐, ๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐, ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐/ ๐ฑ๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐, ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐-๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐, ๐ข๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐ฐ๐๐๐๐๐/ ๐๐ข ๐ข๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐, ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐/ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐, ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ข ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ข, ๐ข๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐ข๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐/ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐! ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐, ๐ข๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐ ๐ a๐๐๐๐๐'๐ ๐ ๐๐๐, ๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐, ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ข ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐, ๐ข๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ข ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐/ ๐ฑ๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐, ๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐, ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐, ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐ข๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ข, ๐ข๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ข ๐๐๐๐, ๐ข๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐ข๐๐๐๐/ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐! ยฉยฎ ๐ฝ๐ง๐๐๐ฃ๐จ ๐ฟ๐๐๐ ๐๐ค๐ช๐ก๐ค 2022
Today's Breakfast
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Today's Breakfast
is yesterday's lunch
And Dinner was
"Keep the coffee Hot!"
I'm alone in the night
Until I close my Eyes
Until the lure of Love
& my Hands touch
the sky
to adjust the stars a nudge
Everything I do Happens next
& I'm happy to the moment.
I lift my New Memories
of the freshly Brewed pleasure
Abandon my past
this savory moment
Kiss time
and Let go
Almighty Written by Arsi Rauf Almighty, Almighty, Almighty All praises for Thee, Who did search, In high mountains, And boundless sea, He got Thee. In each star dwells A newer world, Sun and the moon Show your majesty Often, when I look around Though can't be seen Everytime very close You are found That you hear a tiniest whispered sound So Whenever I did search I got Thee O! Almighty.
Faith Saves My soul sought to find God. Salvation was in God's hands. Deliverance was Godโs wishes. Sitting in the chapel praying. A heart full of grief praying. Loneliness turned into tears. Praying for heaven to come Seeking peace in my life. Always seeking to belong. In moments of despair tears came, Praying for heaven to come to me. Always praying for heaven to come. Soar with Me Heaven is a place with my heart. A renewed awareness of each beat. Listening to the sounds of light. Soar with me to a place of beauty. Leaving a trail of stars to heaven. Follow each star as it lights the sky. Soar with each breath you take. Behold each star as your own. Touch Heaven in your dreams. Night Stars Night stars glow in the skies of Vermont. Stars upon stars as the moon watches me. Light my path home to heaven to God. A shooting star leaves a trail to heaven. Harmony to a place where love exists. A soul finding Jesus among the stars. A life of hardship and despair forgotten. It was grace that saved me from the pain. A night that my soul was full of light.
Seoul. I am meeting with a potential South Korean supplier. We are in an old part of the city in a building which is part office and part museum. We have all removed our shoes. While we talk, we partake of seemingly endless cups of tea prepared and drunk in the traditional manner. Some of these teas have been preserved for decades and are discussed with all the seriousness of vintage wines in our culture. It is mutually understood that no decisions will be made today or even at any time in the near future, as is the norm in most Asian cultures. Eventually it comes time to leave and I sit on what I perceive to be a solid looking stool to put my shoes back on. Something indefinable shifts in the mood, although the smiles remain. Walking down the laneway leading away from the building, I take our translator discreetly aside and test whether I have sensed the mood correctly. He politely informs me that the โstoolโ I sat on is a 400-year-old ceremonial tea table and only its superior craftsmanship has averted disaster for all concerned. Shanghai. My flight to Hong Kong is delayed considerably. (I discover later that this has occurred because the Chinese Air Force has suddenly closed the airspace for an exercise and that it is not uncommon.) Finally a boarding call is given to a gate downstairs from the busy main departure area, empty of all but my fellow passengers and the airline staff. A Chinese family is at the departure desk yelling at the staff and refusing to be placated. A bus arrives to ferry passengers out to wherever our plane is parked. The family rushes towards the long line that has already formed at the check-in door. The bus is soon full and the family will have to wait for the next bus. At this point a young man from the family becomes hysterical and attacks a male staff member, pulling his hair and slamming his head against a glass partition. Other passengers finally intervene and I look around for a security guard. Oddly, for any international airport and especially for China, there are none. When a second bus arrives, all of the family are allowed to board. When I board the plane, I find myself seated across the aisle from the angry young man. I stow my gear and make my way back up the aisle to a steward. I describe briefly what has occurred on the ground and ask why the man has been allowed to board after assaulting one of their staff. She shrugs and her face says โitโs no big dealโ. I return to my seat and the man glares at me for the whole flight. Mumbai. We are returning from a delightful restaurant lunch, driven by an Indian colleague, in her own car. Our animated conversation is interrupted by a policeman at the side of the roadway motioning her to pull over. She is informed that she has exceeded the speed limit and she should step out of the car to show her licence. Mumbai traffic is such that exceeding the speed limit is about as likely as the sighting of a unicorn. However she steps out of the car, taking her purse, and plays the game. After returning to the car she advises that she has paid the requisite bribe and the matter will be forgotten. She says normally she would challenge such behaviour but we are already late for our next appointment.
e e starr
ship + egg = PLANO
way away
buy/oh
bio
nic
bio
me
wheat 1-2
ironed axiom
purr-ce
droughty
sinking have
mirror ROM. talking room
the breeze, a shuddered NOM
moore
walter-schick downes
a moon
amon-raw
bio/graf
J. D. Nelson (b. 1971) experiments with words in his subterranean laboratory. His poetry has appeared in many small press publications, worldwide, since 2002. He is the author of several collections of poetry, including Cinderella City (The Red Ceilings Press, 2012). His poem, โto mask a little birdโ was nominated for Best of the Net in 2021. Visit http://MadVerse.com for more information and links to his published work. Nelson lives in Colorado.