In My Mind’s Eye…#325

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Fiction-Poetry-Prose

In My Mind’s Eye

The world is shut-down, fear has driven us inside. 

Every now and again, one must live within their

imagination.  Sometimes, I escape to the past, to a

time where childhood was safe and the world was

not so badly damaged. It is spring, planting time,

there are wide freshly plowed fields and green grass.

Oh, this is my dreamland. 

Black-winged-swallows float upon a warm breeze;

they bath at the edge of a glittering pond; then turn

their dark eyes toward the heavens where they

will soon be suspended in the clean air.  There

are two old mules pulling an ancient plow, behind

it worn leather hands holding the reins gently

urging them along.

Oh, this is my dreamland.

I can see Flint Creek, red dirt banks bright in

the sunshine.  It is there that I swim and let my

childlike imagination run wild; I brush away the

cotton-mouth that does not want to do me harm. 

It’s looking for that sunny place where it can be

warm.  Down the road on weather warn porch sits

my grandmother; she reads her bible, darns socks

and clothes that are way too worn to wear.  I did not

know that we are penniless poor sharecroppers, I

am happy.

Oh, this is my dreamland.

I have enough memories to fill my shut-in –world

to the brim, I carefully place my daddy there; this

imaginary world is one without a care.  My daddy

with his gypsy blood wants to run from it all; I will

not let him fall.  He stays for me.  He stops for his

meal; he will have no fears; while letting a blackbird

picks food from his hand.  He twirls the cold biscuit

into the air; its caught and fly’s away.  My daddy

dreams that a spark from heaven will someday fall

and take him far-far away from it all.

Oh, this is my dreamland.

But what-I dream!  I live in the past as I continue

to be a prisoner within these walls, and I know

that two-hundred years from now it will not

matter at all.  Imagination is an art, you are

here and then you are gone; thus I return to that

space in time where most is now unknown.  A

little church with no bell tower, sweet voices

floating through the windows.  Its yard marked

with stones, I recognize the names upon them,

it’s sad that they are all gone.

Oh, this is my dreamland.

Our barnyard and its fields change from time-to-time,

at this moment it’s filled with a few treasured souls. 

There’s Big Red my daddy’s red roan, and

Soapsticks the aged mule, his partner Lu Lu Bell

has sadly passed on.  The pens are filled with

chickens and hogs, I had named them all.  Then

comes the “Killing Time”, those pens held our

food, but I refused to eat one bite, to eat Fat Sam

or Clem, or Chick Lady on Sunday’s would have

been cruel.

Oh, this is my dreamland.

Yes, in today’s world when we must be shut-in

with four walls that sometimes does not feel like

home.  I have to take my imagination backwards

to a time when freedom was not gone.  To smell

the pines, eating figs from a tree; roaming through

the county side now wishing my daydream would

not end.  A time of joy, with little sadness or despair,

there was nothing to fear; childhood was an

enchanted time; the world today pales to that long

ago time that was only mine.

Oh this is my dreamland.

Born in the days when life was fresh and clear,

still nurturing conquerable hope.  But, now we

fly through a path that was to be; I still believe

in hope, it is with hope that we win.  In my

imagination. Youth finally ends, it fades, and

growing old one will see and hear warm

greetings and smiles.  If it were not for imagination,

I would surely die.

Oh, this is my dreamland.



©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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I Believe…#105

 

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I have always been interested the Bible, the Word, and its foundation for most laws throughout the world. I grew up in a little country Baptist church in the south, my mother and I went to church every Sunday. In the early years my daddy would take us up Burleson Mountain in a wagon drawn by our old mule Soap Sticks, he would be sitting out front an hour later to bring us home. By the time I was eight we had acquired and old WW II jeep, mother drove us, and would bring the preacher back home for dinner (lunch to non-southerners). We were then, my daddy and me required to sit and listen to what daddy called the re-sermon; mother would drive the preacher back up the mountain to his home. I ask my daddy one time why he didn’t have a wife, daddy said probably because he never shut up long enough to allow some woman to say, “I do”.
We left the farm when I was twelve years old, mother would not return to the church until years later when my little sister would be married in one. Oh, she would go occasionally, but I never knew why. My daddy only set foot in church twice in his life, once when they buried his grandmother and the last time at the wedding of my sister. Nonetheless, I ask our new town neighbors the location of the closest Baptist church, it was six blocks away; I went every Sunday until I married. That first Sunday I felt the “calling” and walked to the altar, the third Sunday I was baptized, neither of my parents came to the baptism. I continued going to a small Baptist church close to where we lived after I married. I felt at home there and for the next ten years, I taught Sunday school.
My reason for conveying this information is that many years ago I begin to question the Word, not that it was fiction or a lie, but if these teaching are true why do people or even animals suffer. When you begin to research these things then you begin to question them. I am today a person that is not religious or one that believes in organized religion, of those church leaders that live in the “lap of luxury” paid for by the less fortunate who give their few dollars a week; those who abuse children. I am spiritual, and I believe in helping others, treating others, as I would want to be treated. I believe that there is something out there bigger than we all are, and that there is a place of energy and of beauty beyond what we know as the “now”. However, I do believe that individuals that wanted to control others and set those words down as Law wrote the “Word”.
I believe that there were humans on earth before Adam and Eve, if years are counted right then this would make these two much younger than the world was at the time of their creation. I do not know by means of research or teachings if this is true. The Bible will show that Adam and Eve had many children, and that Cain killed Abel. It is then that Cain had to leave and he went beyond the Second Garden of Eden and he found his wife. Cain’s wife gave birth to a son that they named Enoch and Cain then built a city of that name. If there were not people other than Adam and Eve then how did this happen. It is believed that Cain traveled until he found other humans. If there were not others then why would Cain build a city for just him and his wife? The book of Genesis suggests all of these things.
Genesis 4:16 16So Cain went out from the LORD’s presence and lived in the land of Nod, east of Eden.
How can religion dispute the word they live by…?
If the creation of Adam and Eve is more myth that fact and we have the ability to know that Earth is hundreds or thousands year old and again time frames are set in place they may be real people and they may be the father and mother of generations, but not the first humans.
Other questions I have are those regarding a God we believe that will watch over us. Psalm 121:7-8 will tell us that he will keep us from all harm, just open a newspaper, and turn on a television read the internet. Is this true? The Word promises that the only role God plays in the verse is in Psalm 91, which is that death itself is deliverance for Christians, removing us from sin, pain, suffering and sorrow. Is there proof outside the Bible that God cares about us? No, there are claims of proof. Is God under any obligation to answer our prayers? It is said that God is under no obligation to hear and answer prayers of those who have made themselves strangers to him. However, the Word also says that God cannot lie, nor break his promise. Therefore, with the many prayers for peace, safety and love why is the world is such dire shape.
Psalm 121: 7-8 The Lord will keep you from all harm, he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.
What we do know is that there are about 40 authors of the books of the Bible, there are anonymous writers too. The Bible has been translated into languages from Hebrew Aramaic and Greek, with approximately 670 languages. The New Testament alone has 1,521 languages and some stories into approximately 1,121 other languages.
What I do believe is that God created the first human-type parents and all creatures, and that they were highly complex organisms. That we have bodies that will age and souls that will go on to a place of beauty. I believe that humanity began with a miracle, Using reason and revelation I believe that we are people of many faiths. With so many authors, translations and languages that created the Bible and as a writer I believe that we live in a mysterious world where we want to believe that some if not all of the “Word” is true and that my friends is called faith.

 

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The Vines…#81

 

 

The Vines…
I was raised in the shadows of Burleson Mountain, nestled in the cliffs above my childhood home were small caves, these and the surrounding woods were my playground.

There is a rich foliage that grows in abundance covering rocks, fences, and anything that gets in its way. It does not climb trees, but it does climb telephone poles. This smothering vine has no special appeal. It covered the face of the caves creating a curtain to close away the world that I lived in.  Southerners believed it to be nothing but a nuisance.

Visitors who traveled the back road were in awe as to how the vine survived, they thought it to be worthless, but you can eat it.   The leaves, vine tips, flowers, and roots are edible; the vines are not; the old southerners chopped kudzu leaves raw in salad or cook them like spinach leaves. You can cook kudzu roots like potatoes, or dry them and grind them into powder. Kudzu root powder as a breading for fried foods or a thickener for gravy.

How do I know this… between winter and summer garden greens my mother would cook the leaves and root together with a piece of “fat back”, that and a pan of cornbread would fill our hungry belly’s.

Yet it also added a certain beauty to the tarpaper shacks that speckled the countryside. People who live among the vines have made their peace with this dark green neighbor, they understand its need to cover up the abandon shacks and the art it creates with what nature provided. It is deep-rooted in the south’s history, when you think of Kudzu…you think of Dixie Land.
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When will the Earths Lights go out…#6

In the world that we know, yet we cannot see, it is floating, suspended in the dark hole of life. The earth turns in her floating world, and she is tired by the changing of time, seasons, inhabited by those who bring wraith to her.  As humans we look for things that will turn out in a magnificent way, we dwell on how things will unfold.  However, as humans, we keep interfering with her growth, her peace, her beauty.  She weeps, the tears fall, trickling, sprawling into the depths of hopelessness. 

We, as humans stand still doing nothing to save her, if we have made the wrong choices it is the children who must pay, so why do we care?  There is no gain for the earth of today, caring is left in the past, the yesterdays of our own childhood.   We show no wisdom, and the great “Sayers” who actually say nothing, sit and let her be destroyed.  

There is no victory, we will not leave her as we found her, slow dank waters will form swamps as the rivers dry up, in the woods the cedars’ will soon be like winter bones.  EARTH, she will stand for many eternities, but then she will die and her light will go out.

Love and Peace

 

Elizabeth

©elizabethannjohnsonmurphree


AUTHOR’S NOTE: We cannot think about the “seasons” without bringing Mother Earth into the fold.  She has served us well, beware she made not be here forever, be good to her.

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