The Mausoleum

 This Blog is AI free

"For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away."

(James 4:14 KJV)

Seek Eternal

(by R.P.Edwards)

In the dustbin

Ancient tells

Words of wooing 

Self to sell

Music, readings, fading path

Where one might weep

Or one might laugh...

One might charitably say (and possibly even believe) that a sloppy work area is a sign of "artsy creativity." Yes, a maestro's mess could be interpreted as outward evidence that priorities are soulish and cerebral, rather than superficial and material. Or it could mean...he's just lazy.

Anyway, the other day I was in my cluttered basement cubby and I glanced at the floor to my right and saw it; the old cassette languishing midst the debris. From there I gazed in a panoramic swath and saw other evidences of quite a few once important instruments that now are just mile markers in my zigzaggy life's journey: the floppy disc, the four-track cassette recording studio and dual player, the word processor and perhaps my favorite; the old Windows 95 laptop with the academic cap atop (Fresno State 1988). All of these were important in their time (well, maybe not the degree), but they ALL have been replaced and nearly forgotten. 

So, let us pause to remember that this life (earthside) is, at its longest, short. Yes, entertain and invest in its qualities and quirks (I'm fond of alliteration) but be wise to place your anchor in the eternal unchanging realm. 

The poem continues...

...Yes, life's a vapor

And things as much

Importance withers

With tired's touch

So, seek eternal

Unchanging true

Where Jesus reigns 

And all is new

****

Here's a song from my Youtube channel (link below) that centers on the blog's theme. It was created using some of the old technology mentioned above.

Some links you might like:

Got Jesus?  

A talented nephew's first novel  

A novel by yours truly 

My rather conservative youtube channel

 

  

 

The Blind Spot

 This blog is AI free

Attend the Bubble

(by R.P.Edwards)

Attend the bubble

Suppress the "feel"

Embrace the knowledge

You KNOW is real...

There is a way which seemeth right unto a man, But the end thereof are the ways of death.

(Proverbs 16:25 KJV)

Long ages ago, when yours truly attended Driver's Education, there was the ever neck-twisting admonition to look over one's shoulder (right or left) before a lane change. Why? The blind spot. You see, although the side mirrors were handy there was this certain "spot" which could hold a whole vehicle. In other words; you couldn't see it unless you looked for it. Over the years there has been many a time this practice has prevented at least a minor mishap. It's automatic at this point.

Well, enter the modern era with our fancy sensor-saturated vehicles. Cameras and electronic "detectors" make the old ways almost obsolete. However, some of us have not arrived yet in this area so an affordable and reliable aid is the "bubble mirror." It's a little add-on to the side mirrors that when attended to will show what's in the blind spot without altering your neck structure. It takes a little getting used to; but it doesn't lie.

I suppose we can extrapolate the concept to the very important area of our spiritual and earthly walk. Being familiar with the owner's manual is essential, but so too is the add-on of hearing the author's voice. I'm well acquainted with missteps because I did not attend to the "bubble." No need to linger there: drive on.

The poem continues...

...For blind spots linger

Surrounded we

So attend the bubble

And you WILL see

****

See links below

A talented Nephew's first novel 

A novel by yours truly 

The really good news

 

The case for Cats

 AI free (as in, I wrotes it) 

Of Cats

(by R.P.Edwards)

For spiders and mice

Cats are nice

Though I'm sure these two say NAY!

For the feline's delight

Is to capture and bite

And the pests all go away...

My beautiful Bella (photo above) is an American Shorthair with tuxedo markings. She's a gentle soul and often joins me in the evening repose (at least till the urge to nocturnally zoom takes hold). Lately, however, she's been mostly absent during these quite hours. Why? She was on a hunt. AND, from the second photo we know why. Apparently, she had stalked this elusive critter for a while and finally got 'em.  The early morning ruckus I heard in the dining room gave testament. I can only imagine the joyful toying that cats do until the rodent finally succumbed.

I have little sympathy for the mouse (oh, I had laid some traps), or any other pest the elegant exterminator goes after (she's good with spiders as well). So, if you're on the fence about getting one of these delightful creatures; varmint control is a plus. However, having had other cats before, I know with age the urge to hunt gives way more often to the warm lap. And that's fine. But for now; hunt on, sweet Bella.

The Poem continues,

...But with the coming of years

The varmints will cheer

As the huntress pursues the lap

Ignoring each pest

With her stalking of rest

Till she bags another nap.

****

The very Good News

Talented Nephew's first Novel

A novel from yours truly

Banished

 

Banished

(by R.P.Edwards)

Little poopy diaper

Hiding by the door

Banished from the party

Not carried anymore...

Oh, I'm well acquainted with the diaper-filled existence. Granted, the first wave of wearers has grown, but THEIR offspring have now also adorned the inglorious girdle. It's a part of life. A part of growing. A part of "must" doing. AND, as a grandparent, it touches me little.

However, on this day as I mulled about and eventually made my way to the Sunroom (an addon with a separate door of entrance) I saw "it" coyly nestled against the outermost exit. A little diaper wrapped in a leftover grocery bag. I knew immediately the why and when. No doubt the youngest among us had expressed himself robustly and his wise mother, rather than disposing of the aromatic package in an inner receptacle, she chose a place farther away but one that would be noticed before "trash day." It made me smile and it made me...a little sad.

The poem continues:

...The leavings of a wee one

Not yet polished in his ways

And I view with tempered sadness

Knowing Oh how brief the days

****

The passing

 

You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.

(James 4:14)

For the Grieving

(by R.P.Edwads)

Here

Then gone

And tears for known

A life entwined

But now alone

And grief our portion

It fills "your" time

A violent void

In heart and mind...

It's called a "viewing" or "visitation." A gathering of those who knew the deceased in some form or fashion and want to offer a bit of comfort to the immediate family. It's a way of dealing with the unpleasantness of death. A needful punctuation I think.

When I began this blog a short time ago I had gone to a "visitation." I had known the deceased from years before and there was a connection there; albeit decades had passed. I went through the line; viewed some memorabilia and gave a hug and some inadequate words to family.

Well, since "that" visitation a more intimate loved one has died. This too will end in a much deserved ceremony of conclusion.

Here's the gist: this life, the one embodied in this squishy flesh, is a short one. BUT, I am convinced that there is a "life" within us that travels on. That "life's" preservation is assured when attached to the Creator who went to a cross. 

The poem continues:

...But don't weep for long

Let your tears be few

For your loved one lives

Where all things are new

And the arms that cradle

Your dear one there

They hold "you" now

And your burdens bear

****

A couple songs are included (above and here). They have to do with grieving and the remedy.

The Tailwind

 

The Tailwind

(by R.P.Edwards)

The tailwind "there"

Or tailwind "back"

One be tight

The other slack

So, if I had my druthers 

Which one to track

I'd rather have

The tailwind "back"...

It usually goes with little notice; the waving of the flags. But to those of us with wind-affected craft (in my case, a bicycle) it could mean much. From the windchill to the effort needed to traverse home, a few miles per hour makes a difference. And thus the tailwind (pushing you towards your destination) or headwind (pushing against your efforts) are a part of life.

Nothing terribly deep here. In the "going" there is sometimes struggle, or ease. And, of course, "struggle" produces endurance and experience. And ease can bring an illusionary "rest," if not balanced with the other.

So, since many of you are well acquainted with "struggle," may tailwinds be yours in greater frequency. AND, when others see the collective "we" come into the room, may they expect a delightful tailwind to ease their delicate stay on this earth.

The poem continues...

...For going, verve is on my side

Muscles ready

Born to ride

But with the struggle

The weary tack

Towards home I'd druther

The tailwind back.

PS The flags in the photo above are outside the city hall of Granite City Illinois.  This town has an interesting history which was birthed by the need for reliable steel. A song and video was inspired by the journey of the up and coming metropolis. Thus:

The Oath Pill

 

The Oath Pill

(by R.P.Edwards)

What if oaths were a pill to take

Along with the words we solemn make

That would stay inside throughout our "time"

And with promises kept, we'd feel just fine

In fact, they'd help us in our healthy walk

In body and soul as we act and talk...

A lot of "oaths" have been given and taken lately. Understandable, considering the new administration has many deserving folk to appoint to important positions. I notice they're all (the oaths, that is) pretty much the same (except for the President's; his was different). Along with the words it involves the raising of the right hand and the placing of the left on the Bible. The solemn utterance concludes with, "So help me God."

Now, may I make a casual and obvious observance that the "oath" is only as good as the oath takers perception of things. In other words; the meaning is subjective. Case in point: there will no doubt be offered Federal legislation that will require proof of citizenship and paper ballots so that elections will be more fraud resistant. Without question many (very many) of those who have "sworn" to "defend" the US Constitution will vote against this "no-brainer" of an act. In other words: the oath is meaningless.

Of course, there are other "oaths" that carry little weight these days (marriage?), but there's no need to drag on. Perhaps the solution to our "dilemma" of duty is NOT in a pill; but rather in education. Teach the tots the importance of honor and honesty, and by all means steer them away from Ivory Towers that have forgotten the basics.

The poem continues.

...But of course, the opposite would then be true

Breaking faith would be an act we'd rue

For we'd turn bright green from the inner pain

And its obvious cause would add more shame

But this end might assist our choices make

Yes, if oaths were a pill we had to take.

****