So Much Sweeter

When I keep an attitude of gratitude, the day is so much sweeter.

You?

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Possibilities?

I attended a Facebook launch party held by Filles Vertes, a new publishing house, last night. It was great fun. They had prizes I could use. One was a fifty-page critique of a work, along with a few similar prizes. Well, I managed to snag a fifty-page critique, and I’m extremely happy about it. I’ve been wanting professional eyes on my MS, and now I have that opportunity.

They also had a pitch session, and, drum roll please, they want me to submit not one, but two of my novels!

Do I have to say how cool this is?

Now to work, writing a query for and sprucing up the first 25 pages of one of those manuscripts. Got to get them in ASAP and see what happens.

#STRINGSNSOULS

Have you ever considered playing a musical instrument? Consider no more and do it. It is one of the most creative as well as personally enlightening things you can do. And when you advance to the point of playing with others … well, lets just say there is nothing like it in this world. When you do it’s like you are connected in an invisible soul-bond, ending only as the song fades, picking back up with the notes of the next song.

The 5 string banjo was my first love, followed by the resonator guitar and the guitar, and though learning them and playing by myself was a fine thing, that was no comparison to when I advanced enough to begin making music with others.

Do you play, or have you considered playing? If so, which instrument do you play, and if not, which instrument interests you?

I Certainly Hope So.

We must live within them from time to time. Clouded mist and gray skies. But then emerges blue-sky dreams filled with hope. Hope tugs our hearts and souls on ghost threads tangible as steel and delicate as ether. Strong as any weapon while fragile as love’s fading kiss. How strong are your hopes? And how weak? And do you hope at all? I certainly hope so.

And so should you.

In Fiery Splendor

sunset over the Albemarle sound

As the budding rose is to the rising sun

drawing forth in fiery splendor

so are we

As the smile of a child is to the parent’s heart

bringing forth love in all its mysterious ways

so are we

As the gull is to wave tops

endlessly seeking above crests foamy and golden at sunrise

so are we

As the oak leaf is to emerald grandeur

awaiting the final downward drift with gust and gale

so are we

As we each seek our path, yearning above all else to

lock hope away in our hearts

instead

set it free

Allow hope to bloom, to laugh, to soar

and

at the end

you will pass forth with joy and thanksgiving

filled to everlasting

All The While Settling Onto Beauty

A flickering fluttering triangle of wing and body

Colors blurring, wind carrying aloft

During the seeking

Her goal, her sole existence is to feed for growing

To lay eggs for living

To continue the cycle endlessly

Of newness

Caterpillar

Chrysalis

Oh, what life to live

Flying on current’s edge

Constantly in hazard’s way

All the while settling onto

Beauty

Of leaf and petal

Of scent and color

Kissed with dewdrops left by

The Morning.

 

Happy 100!

According to my bell in the upper right hand corner, I have reached 100 followers.

First, I’d like to say thank you. I am humbled by you taking your time to check in on what I might be doing on WordPress.

Second, I’d like to say it’s nice to meet you. When I first came to WordPress, I had no idea there were so many talented people here. If it weren’t for you, this site would not exist.

Thanks again, and best to everyone.

J.

The Challenge

The Challenge of life is to welcome challenge itself, not for ego, not for attention, not for riches, but for the dim glow that grows into brightness, illuminating the person you were meant to be when you were only a small spark in the Heavens.

But Who Fears.

I saw him staring into the face of someone he never knew

or had no interest in knowing. With his hard eyes he taunted

threatened, and with the tight line of his lips he refused communication.

The facts were there, but he chose to look

away.

The truth was within him, but he would not hear.

The small, still voice begged to be heard

the face of honesty and honor wished to be seen

but fear of what is within blinds those assuming they see all.

Is it already too late? Does hate reign?

Does choosing to separate and divide, looking the other way rather than at one’s self

doom  all?

But who fears … but who fears.