Confession of a dreamer

I'm gonna go out on a limb here and make myself vulnerable to the public. That's if anyone is listening or looking. Checking......1,2,3. Check, check! Like Martin Luther King jr., I have a dream. I haven't really shared this with too many people since I moved to Canton, Ohio over ten years ago. Back home is where my writing began. Back home is Hamilton, Ohio. A small town good enough for me. At first, it came out like a drip from a faucet. It kept dripping so I stopped turning the faucet off. Then it began to flow like a river so I got myself a canoe and a paddle. I wanted to see where it was going to take me. I had some of my material published in anthologies, newspapers, magazines and a chapbook that I had self-published. I was on the front page of my hometown newspaper. There it was for all to see. If I had never accomplished anything else in life that was all I needed to feel like I was somebody for the very first time. How cool was that? Then, to top it off I was selected along with two other very talented writers and speakers, to appear on a local television program. That was an awesome feeling to be of a chosen few to do so.  That was over ten years ago. I shudder at the thought of what might have happened to me and my writing career if I had still been living back home. I am a writer. I always was. I put it away until it was time. And that time is right now. I love to read and write. I have since I was a small boy. Currently I am working on my memoirs among other projects. I have written songs and music that was actually recorded in a real, live studio. No kidding! Just when I thought it couldn't get any better. And ofcourse, there's the poetic voice that's crying out for release. As fast as the current is coming I think I might need a life jacket this time around. The first trip was calm and serene. This one is leading me to unchartered waters, but my guide is well aware of what lies ahead.

Don't abort the baby

I have aborted many things in life such as careers, education and relationships, etc. Some I regret and some I do not. Some relationships were not meant to be. In some of them I didn't know what I was thinking.  Some were definately a big mistake from the beginning. Time wasted to say the least. And I learned the hard way. Because of my decisions I have been set back in one way or another. I would like to be more relational than I have been lately, but I am pulled away by other seemingly important things. I must nurture those things that are healthy for my growth as an individual. I am thankful that my mother did not abort me. The baby must be birthed in all of us.

My spiritual house

My spiritual house is in disrepair. Broken furniture, broken shards of glass and a remnant of old dusty carpet remain where I once used to sweep things under the rug. Anger once lived here, but has since found a new place to dwell. The fence that surrounds my property is in desperate need of repair or replacement. Grass and weeds have overgrown in my once lavish flower bed. Perhaps I should pull the weeds that hide the inner beauty of my garden. Dead family trees surround my property which I will make good use of in a fire pit. I will plant new ones that will give birth to something new and magnificent when time for harvest; something never seen before. Dust has built up on that good book I used to read with such delight and fervency. I remember the excitement and expectancy I would have when reading the spoken word. The words spoke to my heart. It was like taking a drink from a river of living water as I would stoop down hastily for a drink. My thirst would be forever quenched when my ears, eyes and heart were opened. The river never dried up. I just went for a long walk and it still remains upon my return. It's time to shake off the dust from my boots and wipe the dust from the cover of the living word.