How many times have I watched Casablanca without catching the interweaving of espionage and intrigue with undying romance? Too many. I actually thought, until this latest viewing, that Ilsa Lund left on the plane to America, alone. Never realized she was married and her man was fighting valiantly behind-the-scenes. I was so focused on the romance that I missed the back story, the WWII narrative and obviously the double-crossing French Capt. Renault, along with Rick, who played all sides of the war to their benefit.
“If we stop breathing, we’ll die. If we stop fighting our enemies, the world will die.” Viktor Laszlo
It is a romance, but the drama shines, building to a hero’s crescendo. The world, along with those imprisoned, fought valiantly in WWII, to secure freedom from the authoritarian Nazi regime. Casablanca teaches humanity that the only problem with human nature is our short-sighted and narrow-minded focus on ourselves. There is a greater vision of peace that gets tangled in the web of human need. Innocent hearts must remember the greater good is worth fighting towards. Rick understood this well. Never stooped below his values for a cheap thrill.
A kiss is just a kiss.
Today America celebrates a day of Thanksgiving. Not everyone understands the holiday nor does the whole population celebrate the season. My greatest concern is mankind’s inability to understand the other in the midst of their “I am..”.
May we all listen. May we all strive to be peace makers.
Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well lived.
I haven’t given up gathering resolutions. I have relinquished a resounding voice; moving on to disturb the mystery, in hopes the Spirit rises to meet us half way.
Silence is a remedy. A modern day deserted course that digs deep to uproot bitter taste and indulge in honeyed foreplay. Patience chooses to swim in the sweet aroma of (inner) peace, contentment and fortitude than muck around the endless anger of politics.
Rumi says my thoughts eloquently.
If you could get rid of yourself just once, the secret of secrets would open to you. The face of the unknown, hidden beyond the universe would appear on the mirror of your perception.
Make peace with the universe. Take joy in it. It will turn to gold. Resurrection will be now. Every moment, a new beauty.
This post probably belongs on my new blog Soul Signs. But in my inner mixings and until the picture becomes clearer, there will most likely be double postings or a runaway thought posted here on occasion.
I am not new to spiritual things. As a child I was highly in tune with the unknown and invisible world. I am a spirit being, as we all are or can become. I am slowly working my way back into hearing the quiet cricket hour. Knowing I am practicing these universal truths, to not rush to and fro like a disobedient wind is a step. To be a calming breeze on a stormy day, a leap of faith.
Ever so alone in the world
years into days,
days on end a blur.
Time to dig the earth
find the roots of torment
as people weave within,
rattle my soul.
How does one understand truth? Truth was set in stone long ago. The greatest of commands, to love. Peace of mind blooms with watered intentions of serving others. Do not murder. Do not plant false lies. Do not appear as love with malice for others in your heart. Find your sixth sense and do not be fooled easily.
Often when we are hurt, our initial reaction is retaliation. The anger burns hot inside. Emotional self-discipline circumvents such reactions. I consider myself in-training. To find strength a cure.
Being honest but peaceful and forgiving paves a long road home with hope. Sometimes walking away, when possible, is best. Remembering to breathe.
i recognize not
the girl in a mirror
i should be progressing
but my mind rattles.
here, sit awhile,
i promise not to startle…
then off i dawdle
to find some words,
express my heart
though rather curt
i sought me
lost along the way…
oh, but i found
amusing visions yesterday
(i brought home their cans and put them in the recycle bin.)
toil in my brain,
promptly tempt my lips
with your sexy care
my heart resides
the trash can
ugly and obscene
insides even so…
forgive the past
the broken walk
tripped up feelings
hoping i return -explore
Not sure i belong here… getting a feel! Bathing in WP love from many of you. I oft question my idea that i am a writer. How do i escape what feels like a prison? I get in these rotting moods… where i trash everyone and everything. I want to purge… i purge… than wallow in my loneliness.
Go ahead, throw me back in the pond!
On another front,
a new home,
a new town…
the comfort found
slowing my pace of life.