Brantley (grandson) is a very social boy...
though he may give you a pretty serious look when he first meets you😐
This morning he was not interested in playing by himself
so while I did a little tidying he played with a new friend who did everything he did!
(oh, this reminds me; I think I have a mirror that needs polishing!)
Nothing gets your attention like, 'Mom, I wasn't going to tell you this because you have enough on your plate to worry about but...' thankfully in the ensuing momentary heart-stop we think the worst possible scenario and what follows is usually not as bad as first-panic pictured😌...
which thankfully, was the case)
We can choose to live in fear of the Impending Unknown
or cling to that formless 'feather' of faith
cupped in the most nail-scar-weathered, loving and gentle hands we can imagine!
The windows through which we view life’s four season circuit
frames
Climaxes of both joy and strife no night-to-morning tames
Where wake of give and take is more than a mere That or This
As jots and tittles score the face with farewell’s drawn-out
kiss
Mankind, clock-locked with no way out save through the grave,
must learn
To make the best with what one has on roads of no return
Because what is, is soon what was, what will be duly streams
Through flutes we lift to catch the glint of
champagne-colored dreams
The aftermath that strews the path where little feet pursue
Renders sacred significance to common say-and-do
…for all that seems of little consequence scatters Somewhere
And who knows when 'what' sprouts will set a foothold or a
snare
Our window to the world expands as sands of season haste
First through the flue of Higher Hands then to man’s touch
and taste
Where wake of gray and gold holds so much more than we may
think
As jot and tittle falls in hallmarks of permanent ink
Matt suggested I give this guy's music a listen because he thought I would like it...I do!
I hope you do too...I got choked up when,
after I sent a few songs to Dave and Karen they messaged back...listen to The Toolbox.
Especially meaningful after the year my carpenter brother Dave had.
Last week the surgeon told him surgery on his shoulder would be pointless...the tears are too large.
They are hopeful given time, that it may get stronger. At this point he uses the 'better' arm to lift the 'worse' one. Karen's INR's continue to be monitored.I know they appreciate continued prayers.
Music can lower the foothills of heaven
It can wake whispers sealed deep in our skin
Like a good love it makes life worth the livin’
Touches a sweet soul-chord somewhere within
A good song can move us across common dance-floors