Prose, Rhythm and Rhyme

Righting the World with the Word

“Striking the right words together breaks them open. The meanings of the words go over the world like angels of mercy, changing the thoughts of men. The higher the truths I tell, the finer and more precious their meaning. This is getting to the actual teaching of the Christ.” Emma Curtis Hopkins

Rev. Greta is the author of  a soon-to-be released non-fiction book on daily living above the din for the spiritual aspirant.

A sampling follows:

“A rose is a rose, is a rose, when it can’t be anything else. It can be fragrant and can prick and prune itself all over. Oh, how my heart aches sometimes for the homeless, hopeless, harmless ones. Oh, how I yearn to be of some support and assistance in the dark dank spaces of the soul that each one must somehow sometime visit. I myself am no stranger to the stress and strain of life.

Let me see, said the blind man, how the world can rhyme while it’s spinning. Making time for the everyway whirl on its axis. Maybe we should all just stop and take some time off from the everyday grit and grim of existing on this plane. Just follow the footsteps of those that blazed the trail before us. Into the depths and heights of the stillness and the silence, there to shake off the shackles of stubborn stupidity, to stomp the strong foot without stubbing the big toe, and to know, without thinking about it.

Just say goodbye to the pain and the angst and rise again to reveal what was plainly hidden. Like water turned wet. No-good can tell you the truth like I do. Believe me this is it, unadulterated. Time to rise and shine and get on with the getting on. Now.

If it’s so simple, why doesn’t everybody do it? Right the world, I mean. Yeah, right. Just make a go of it and don’t slow your roll. Who knows what the true image is? Perhaps a picture of innocence, pure and vacant of vacillation. Simply poised for the evolution of peace, and plenty of good to go around and around for sure. No expectation, no frustration, all open to the effulgence of a rose.” Sesheta

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