The Hermit Chronicles: Hounds

 “In this world of memories, there’s no need for strangers.” – Watsuki Nobuhiro
  “What greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they are joined – 
to strengthen each other – to be at one with each other 
in silent unspeakable memories.” – George Eliot
g0dless-shrine

I hear their cries of excited pursuit as they push their noses high in the air, hoping to sail on the scent of people long gone, caught on the thistles along the paths. Memories, they are the hounds that play along my side as I travel, howling in the night when loneliness stalks me and creeps its way into my tarpaulin refuge. They quietly dig at the unseen footsteps of my past loves when my bottle is near empty and the flames of company have faded to only the dull warm glow of afterthought. I love it when, in the mottled light of sunrise breaking through my shelter of branches, my faithful hounds nudge me with the wet nose of many mornings past. Those mornings when waking to fish my dreams from life’s rivers flowing gently past, I found that elusive “granddaddy”, and pulled it from the muddied water with a rush of victory and pleasure. My camp is filled with many of those that got away. This where my humble abode now sits, along those paw marked muddy banks, that disappear in the fog of today, ghosts of Then floating through Now. I see your quirky look as you wonder at my friends. You have friends like me, though they complain you don’t spend enough time with them, your fires of denial burning bright enough to chase them far away. Relax here in the warmth, lets let our friends mingle, they know how to make smiles and frowns dance with youthful vigor, and just the watching of it will make us tired enough to pass into the night with sweet sleep.

 

A Hiding Place – Notes on fear and safety

“There are no ‘if’s’ in God’s world. And no places that are safer than other places. The center of His will is our only safety – let us pray that we may always know it!”
Corrie ten Boom, The Hiding Place
Image Credit: 2sad-eyes

Safety is a relative term, as I can feel safe in places others can’t. The reverse is true as well, there are common things that cause me to feel threatened. Losing the feeling of safety is one of the effects of being the victim of a violent crime, especially a sexual assault. I despise this fear, and long for safety. Knowing better than to place my trust in a relationship, a group, a law, or even my own devices, I find that there is only one place I am completely sheltered, in the arms of my Father. When I am spending time with Him, He protects me and holds me, comforting me in my fears. There the feeling of safety is irrelevant, for in that moment I am truly safe. Who can touch me when His strong arms wrap my soul in warmth and his unending love comforts my conspiracies laden mind? Feelings of being safe will come if I discipline myself stay in that place where no man and no obscure terror can prevail. In that place I will sleep and laugh at the derision of men.

Also published in Broowaha Magazine 

02242012

Dead Tree? – Appearances can be deceiving

 “A cold wind was blowing from the north, and it made the trees rustle like living things.” – George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones
 

c-4-r-n-a-g-e

The tree throws off its leaves, drawing in its energy, preparing for the battle.

It appears dead and for many months, no life appears.
But beneath the surface, vitality runs, coursing through its toughness.
Don’t be fooled by the appearance of fallen leaves,
for deep in the coldness the tree yearns. Soon
the leaves will return and I will
find shelter under the branches
of what appeared
to be, a dead
tree.