After worrying whether he should or not, Tom called his father telling him that he saw the ghostlike presence of Aunt Janet after his classes that afternoon.
“She said she was sorry, but she didn’t say what for,” Tom added.
“What did you say?”
“I told her it was OK and then she vanished.”
Tom didn’t believe in ghosts, nor did his father, but he felt obligated to pass on this message not understanding what actually alienated his father from Aunt Janet over a decade ago. He was relieved when he heard his father say, “I’m glad you told her that.”
Then came a tap upon the cheek. “Awake! Recall what you were taught. The lying folk will all be caught. The earth is for the just and meek.”
Did I forget what I should seek? The fingers aiming everywhere spit words like buckshot in the air. The noise is great. I cannot hear if that’s a friend who’s coming near or folly dancing to a dare.
Ronovan Hester offers the rhyme word “cheek” once more to be used in an A line of a décima having rhyme pattern ABBAACCDDC for this week’s Décima Poetry Challenge. I was thinking of Matthew 24, especially verse 4: “And Jesus answered and said unto them, Take heed that no man deceive you.”
I used to find Plotinus, a 3rd century Platonist, interesting. His idea of the One suggested a kind of naturalistic or pantheistic spirituality. To the extent I understood any of this, the One was like a force field having the attributes philosophers might assign to a deity.
Little of this is attractive to me today, but that earlier exposure has kept me wary of Platonic or even Aristotelian influences. When I hear discussions of God that do not lead to repentance, salvation or a personal relationship with Jesus grounded in the special revelation of the Bible I wonder if there aren’t hidden presuppositions underlying the arguments that might be coming from ancient Greek, rather than Jewish or Christian, sources.
I’ve noticed these hidden ideas within various Christian traditions going back to Augustine or earlier. Some of them are fine, but it’s easy to forget that even the acceptable ones are cultural additions. So, I try to distinguish what is in the Bible from what is outside trying to get in. Then I put scripture over tradition should a conflict arise between the Word of God and that other stuff.
For those who wish more information on this especially as it pertains to questionable Greek cultural influence, see David Pawson’s lecture on “de-Greecing” the church:
Weekly Bible Readings:Genesis (Audio: King James Version read by Alexander Scourby) Commentary: David Pawson, Genesis Part 1 of 7 and Part 2 of 7, Unlocking the Bible
Bernard’s confidence returned as he began drinking the last can of his six-pack. He was ready to point out every nit that needed picking from the members of a social networking community he frequented.
In righteous rivalry he led his own charge condemning the “freaks, flakes and morons” to fiery hells that he himself didn’t believe in. They knew he was drunk.
Eventually his demons, unforgiving accusers themselves, led tired Bernard to bed one last time. As a reward for his long service, they prepared terrifying dreams.
A portal really is a door,
A hole in solid wall.
A window shows us somewhat more,
But there is nothing like a door
To make us stand up tall.
Of course, we have to open it.
Oh, how we love the chair.
The monitor suggests we sit.
The door insists we open it
And wander on out there.
Linked to dVerse Poetics where Anmol is hosting with the theme of portals.
Pumpkin piles rising high
Pointing to the blue fall sky.
Going up perhaps a mile
Or just enough to make me smile.
Linked to Cosmic Photo Challenge where Dale offers the theme of “food as art”. I hope those pumpkins or squash taste as good as they look. They are from two different fall displays at the Chicago Botanic Garden.
Also linked to Trent P. McDonald’s The Weekly Smile. One unexpected thing happened this past week. I realized I have now re-seen all of the Pink Panther movies including the not so great ones. There’s nothing left to watch. That made me realize that I will have to crawl out of my comfort zone, take a breath of fresh air, and find something else to risk watching. And that made me smile.
There’s order somewhere in this garden space.
I tuck the sheets and toss the blanket tight.
I wash the dishes daily, wipe my face
To carry with me courage for the night.
Dreams help order what I ought to do
Summarizing stuff with morning light.
Today there may be some I shall get through!
I’ll plant them. Watch them grow and check their height.
This all depends on trust. That’s hard to find.
I know that if I did this on my own
I’d often go astray or fall behind.
Who is that hoeing offering his aid?
I tend to think I’m on this walk alone,
But we’re both planting dreams though some may fade.
Linked to dVerse Poetics where Laura Bloomsbury offers the theme of “order” featuring Elizabeth Jennings. My poem is based on thinking about Jennings’ sonnet The Garden. I took the photos some time ago with different seasonal views of the Chicago Botanic Garden.