PLANTING SEEDS

Planting of seeds
in a fertile mind
grows fruits of great intellect,
and unimpaired vision,
liken to rich sources of informed light
upon fields of diamonds.
Transcending the value
we place on outerwear
and frivolous flair.

Planting of seeds
in the mind
requires knowledge of the need
to plant seeds,
and the understanding
of that which brings to the surface
an enhanced tree of abundant life.

Planting of seeds
in a hallow ground
means not allowing the precious soil of the mind
to be hampered by contamination,
exploitation, degradation,
hesitation, stagnation, intimidation,
and manipulation.

Ideas are seeds of the mind.
They are knowledge found in the ground
of our earth soil(self).
What we can perceive
is based on what has been nurtured,
tilled and toiled within the soil.

Thoughts are life givers.
Or the opposite.
They can be seeds sown
as seeds of hope
or seeds of despair.
Seeds can grow and become as useless weeds
that clutter and choke out fruitfulness,
and crowd the mind
of vision and the possibilities
of what could be
a courageous journey across the sea.

Everything that has come into being
has come from planting capabilities
and harvesting possibilities.
You grow what you plant.
What our societies have initiated, generated, created,
calculated, contemplated,
estimated or instigated
has come from the eye of the mind.

To say that it is a sin to allow the mind
to be maligned
with hopeless, futile, worthless thoughts -
destined to be a putrid wasteland,
a garbage dump for rodents,
is an understatement
and should be radically and drastically addressed.

CONSIDER THE EAGLE

He is a kingly bird.
He stands at the head of the feathered families.
He is exalted.
He takes to the heights when lying at rest
and while flying at his crest.
He builds his nest among the highest dimensions.
He outstrips all other birds in his majestic ascensions.

The eagle is said to be the only bird
that can look the sun in the face.
No other has this lofty place.
He has a keen and far-reaching sight.
He is known too
for his strength of vision and might.
It is almost impossible for him to be deceived.

Hope this little planting lesson is received!

(Do not despise the day of small things.)

My Love, Ruth
(Some of the descriptive words on the eagle were taken from
Preston Eby's "Kingdom Bible Studies Ministries")

OUR LORD GOD

This is week 2 of the February love month.
Sharing my heart for this week is as follows.
(And know fully that I am loving you!)

OUR LORD

He went down
to the bowels of the earth
to reach the lost and forgotten souls.
There is no place or space
He cannot enter in
to deliver man from sin.

He is the Great Rescuer
The Father Who waits on the shore
for the prodigal sons to return home
from wallowing in the bitter fruits of life.
He waits with opened arms,
And He releases the chains that bind
the shackled mind.

He is The Good Shepherd
Who seeks into every crevice and cavity of the land
to find the lost sheep
who went astray
and lost his way.

He cleanses his wounds,
washes away the scourge of crude and mud,
soothes the soul to rest
and be at peace.
He is the Great I Am the Peacemaker,
JEHOVAH-shalom!

He is the lover of my soul,
the delight of my eyes,
the joy of my heart.
My comfort and care.
No matter where
I roam,
He is there to bring me safely home.

He prepares a table before me in His Holy Presence.
His glorious majesty
abounds all around
to show forth His goodness and mercy
which endures forever and ever.

Thank You for rendering unto me -
this little small fish in the sea,
a voice to speak of Thee.
Amen! (So bet it)

My Love, Ruth

Unto the Lord

I strip of all adornment
to the floor,
Wash my face and body
with the blood of Christ,
which cleanses me from all unrighteousness,
As I present myself before the doorway
into the Holy Chamber
where rests the Throne of the Lord God,
Who bestows and embodies the grace and mercy
prepared before the foundation of this earth man
formed from the dust.
In bowed reverence,
I take my priestly seat before His Holiness,
Knees bent in utter submission,
and surrendered will,
to receive the blessing of transformation, exaltation and illumination
of the Day of the Lord.
"I lift my eyes to the hills
from which cometh my help."
"With my voice, I cry out to the Lord,
and He hears and answers me out of His holy hill"-
Sharing in the words spoken
long ago by brother David,
As I lay down my prayers for the families.

I submit my request for justice for the black families of America.
I call their names out
because they have been the victims of torn-apart families
by the evil powers that be.
No good can become of a desecrated family.
Mend their broken homes,
Bind up their broken hearts.
Restore them to unified bodies
beloved of God,
that justice may reign truth.
Seek out the children
who have fled in fright,
wandering the streets of the night.
Rein in the fathers
who have fled in shame.
Tender the hearts of the mothers
who share in the blame.

Give ear to my plea,
Dear God of my families and me.
Bless the day
with Your loving care
I pray.

Amen (So be it)
As You have spoken

My Love, Ruth

This Good Ol' Bitter Earth

I looked out over the grassy shore
and what did I see…
Trashed filled garbage cans
heaped with
diseased mannequins
hand-in-hand
upon polluted convoluted waste lands
tilted with blood spilled wine bottles
careening in streams
and seams
across rivers of time
and slime
liked mind
with the sublime
lined up
to monkey-see monkey do cash machines
erupting like volcanic ash
spewing lava lit steam
here
there
wherever the road sowed
on the by and by
where we live
and die.
Why?
Because we settled
resettled
upon this bitter earth
of my barren birth
where
I came to be
to see
angels and demons
bloodletting
bed-wetting
go-gettin’
for whose getting by
the light of the slivery moon
mastering the disguise
of the ties that bind
stringed under
pretense nonsense
of whence
came the name
of who’s to blame
for the pain game
on this bitter pill
land fill
of no shame
riding the dark horse
with the rest
lying on a bed of nails
beneath the wails
of barking dogs
and wild hogs
eating away at the hell bent
tent
covering over head
above the wedded bed
of gun runners
and infiltrators
traitors
raiders
and pretend placators
hidden spies
telling lies
while
while
while
the baby cries
for his spilt milk
amassed in weapons
of warfarers
who dare not care
to give a damn
about
the sham
in blockades and facades
like shades in spades
running like puss
fluids
of contaminated
body sores
pealing pores
surrounded by black birds
of prey
who await the day
when the temple of doom
soon entomb
the room
where fighting
shadows boxes
the ghosts
from times past
when last the fallen
swelled in hell’s smells
of rotting flesh
drinking in the same ol’
piss hole
day
after day
being the way
out of
no way
come what may
or not
rot
on the dotted spot
lined with
eyes blinded
drunk minded
ass behind-ed
confined
to throes of lust for must
in the dust bowl
hole
filled with
lie soap
and false hope
tied to a dope’a dope rope
trying to keep step
with the
chance to dance
on the jig
saw
horsey
into the sunset
where the dawn wept
for her mother
making her way
in a
wilderness
of bombs
dropping
like dead butterflies
beneath the wings
of fireflies
and brimstone jail cells
and hells below
the surface
of this good ol’ bitter earth core
of my barren birth door
opened
wide
inside
this rage
on the page
to engage the mind
to find a way
to say
to the day
in this encrusted plaster of clay
to go beyond the dead head
of sickness and shame
misery and pain
rising from the hard rain
beating against the grain

Is it in vain?
to speak against the atrocities of created fate
instigated
tolerated
unabated hate
the weight of hills and boundless boulders
over troubled waters
laden to covered wagons
where darkness disguises
the dragon's shadowy talons
clawing at the light
to the taster's delight
unaware of the blinding
binding
constrictions
choking us all to death
for a little slice
of slithery wealth.

Oh suffer me!!
to be free!
to take flight
to fly
across the sea
wishing I was never
to be
to say to the day

so long
I’m gone.

Peace
out