Monthly Archives: December 2019

THE GLINT REAWAKENS:Sketches from my past.

The urge to put it down alongside PePa most always supersedes the reluctance to withdraw from its all time reality.Reality,huh?Someday am sure gone tread down this unprecedented path of realization;when the truth and actual altercation between truth and reality will set vision to my wandering impression.

It always starts with this strong persuasion that sips into my mornings the moment the sun’s rays get welcome into my heart.Today my dear PePa treader was no different,only jig to it is that today came with the tag 29th of December.Little did I know that this day would for all times remain a stamp in my subconscious.Almost like an anniversary for which only goodness would ever narrate.

On my end however it takes me down to my first ever glint in a lifetime.How this hit me is a whole book to narrate about my dear treader. No good day for me has ever often began on a high note and going back a solar cycle down this day takes me to one such moment in life.I call it a moment for ease of understanding however but it sure is a cascade of events.

What catches me the most about this day is that lustrous smile on her lips,the flow of words upon her soft tongue watered with the warmth of life itself…the longing look in her eyes devoid of passion but filled with a torrent of sweetness that you not only yearn to hear but ultimately swim in for a lifetime.

A close buddy asked me once if I had gotten over her but truth be told such anniversaries don’t help you much in getting over that once in a lifetime encounter.

My fingers tremble at this point as I try to put together this sketch down to perfection but then truth reminds me that it is a sketch after all.That hence means that it don’t have to be perfect in the least.

Her memories are sweet torture if I could be at least honest with me if not you my dear treader. It is a pathetic strain on canvas were I an artist of paint.I am one of words but this day all that artistic scope in me wanes into the nethers as my once beautiful horizon plays to be my tormentor in a place where she once was the dawn and start of a romantic love story.

The glint she once plastered so beautifully within the walls of my heart now plays like a Halloween horror movie that comes alive in my heart.To ease words into perspective,I have never been in favor of Halloweens and horror movies to me are just that,horror movies,why not watch cartoons all day instead or say national geographic channel.So this am sure plainly narrates the state of my heart at this point.

Speaking of heart,why does she never heed the warnings of mind most times if not ever?Heed what though when all this evening did was make me realize all that my heart had missed and yearned for for an entire lifetime and this day it all came alive.

I still see her face light up in the glow of the dim light upon the darkness,her brother was coming to pick her up at almost midnight and if asked then or now,I would never have wanted her to leave….she still hangs here and never leaves my heart in peace,I never want her to leave though leave she did a year ago.

It is December and I do not willingly do it,she just knew my heart well and chose to string the lines of music in it so I will swing to the tune that hums within till my heart finds rest of leave again.

If you are reading this Kare,just know that the sun is setting in the horizon to remind me that you awakened what once I thought dead to the elements within,you left a hunger and thirst for how a man needs to treat a lady,whether they love them back or not…….the sirens rise up across the streets and I know you could be on a trip to Hawaii or attending to a patient….

A gobble on this last glass of Sangria may not knock me over but reminds me that here we are again,years after the Katrina.

Another wave may come but we must be strong to embrace it and not let it knock us down.

PePa.

NO COINCIDENCE IN LIFE:The sketches of God’s grace.

Am disconnected from the world around yet deep rooted to its soul within.It actually most often is a physical disconnect leading to a more spiritual connection that must spring forth from my inner being.Makes no sense often to the onlooker who is eluded to the fact that the more they look into the darkness or say depths so does the depth look back into them.A deeper aspect of the same eye that looks without is the same eye that is looking within.

 

The weather breezes through my nostrils to remind me that am alive.My lungs respond in retrospect as though it is the air without that gives it life within.Quite an ironic parallel in my perspective.

 

My hair follicles recoil from the elements softly cascading across their tips in brisks of cold currents oozing in from the waving wind above.This my dear treaders is the ultimate joy my soul always yearns for.The joy that can be drawn from a torrent of total turmoil clustered in arrays of ashes and garbage.The point am sure hits home right from this description as at now huh?

 

Asking by now what all this description gets us to,right?Nowhere in particular is the answer.Am seated hear trying to figure out life and the essence of it all.Am sure I may not be able to attain  to the fullness of life’s meaning so what I will do is to tell you a story about the power of all we set out to do and put our focus on.

 

This tale starts out back on a similar date as this.The 27th Dec 2018.Quite a slow day it started out as most after Christmas days do start back at work.Lazy and with a slack of energy that could bring the entire cosmos to its knees.Quite amazing that as I narrate this I am seated on the opposite side I was at the same time last year.Brings me to the aspect of nothing being a coincidence in life as it took me quite an internal debate before I could finally decide to come sit down and flip my fingers through PePa.This is Friday,that was Thursday yet both look within the same energy wavelength as today’s cold without personifies that day’s cold within my bones.

 

With my energies ebbing off and a resolution to do things the right way at hand,I found myself in my cold bed lying almost lifeless and asking for mercy from the Almighty and a chance at redemption.And He sure is faithful as true to my earnest prayer here I am again to narrate sketches of the same.I must admit I miss the beach,I miss the sun and the colors of the sky,but here I am with a lesson at hand,a full heart and an assured tomorrow from the precipice of near extinction.

 

Lying on that bed feeling life sip itself untamed out of my essence I made a vow to walk the right path,this is however a sketch for a later day my dear treader.

 

The next day came.In my regret of closing shop on Christmas day with all the booming business I had broken off from and now meager scrapes left in sales(the ungratefulness that is human nature)….I remember making a promise that come the next December,I would not close shop especially during Christmas festivities. Life had been hard if not almost impossible in my opinion that year.I initially thought 2017 was a nightmare till 2018 hit and I thought 2017 was child’s play.A quick reminder takes me back to the wise King Solomon in Ecclesiastes 7:10 ”Say not thou,What is the cause that the former days were better than these?for thou dost not inquire wisely concerning this”.Here I had however in desperation and utter lack of wisdom muttered words that truth be told could never be taken back.

 

Now it all made perfect sense  the truth in those ancient words spoken by the great I am,”The power of life and death I give unto you this day,but I would ought that ye chose life”…these became reiterated by the apostles in the New Testament texts when they said in James 3:8-9 ”But the tongue can no man tame;it is an unruly evil,full of deadly poison. Therewith bless we God,even the Father;and therewith curse we men,which are made after the similitude of God…..”

 

Fast forward towards the end of this year,a notice of vacation comes through at a most unprecedented time.Finances seem to be at an all time low and debts,meeen!these seem to call unto each other by first name basis at this juncture.Nothing seems to work and the prospect of acquiring let alone affording a new outlet doesn’t seem to break the mere knuckle of reality.When a phone call comes in and a friend needs aid you almost feel like they are mocking you to your face while in earnest they are genuine.

 

Your most sincerest prayers and fasts seem like a mock to the heavens themselves and you feel like the prophets of Baal during Elijah’s duel with queen Jezebel:almost as if your true God went for a walk and can’t hear you.At this moment you forget that God is not deaf not to hear nor His arm shortened not to reach.If you were to let logic take center-stage you are bound to consider the cost of a new manila rope and forget that God actually uses all your stumbling blocks into stepping stones …get my drift?

 

That was the slump I was in and a journey of faith got borne out of adversity.Lack became the power to growth and vision found course narrowed to truth,truth that my words and declarations had to find reality in faith and grow into fruition over a  time breath that seemed not to come to completion.When they said faith was a journey I would have almost mocked them but today ask me the same and I will assure you it ain’t one treaded by many.

 

Rolling to a week into eviction and grace pours down in a favor unrivaled.The new owner extends our tenure into a full month!Not in this city and not in this lifetime,a fete only possible by grace and favor again from the Almighty.Ask me again how it all happened and I will speak of nothing other than God Himself,He knows best,He has always known best right from before He placed me in my mother’s womb,His words ever true.

 

I am walking out of the shop on this beautiful and calm mid morning to go into the car and have a devotion long overdue,it is the 27th of December again,a full solar cycle from the first time I said I won’t break off for Christmas festivities.Those words cycled the whole universe and found me to this same day …she walks towards me this damsel and hugs me after a long time with no encounter.

 

Asking her why she came by without a call or inquisition as to whether I was around or not,she says she din’t have to call as she had come to fix her phone.My devotion passes by as we talk about the power of words.Two days earlier I would not have been in a position to assist her but today I did it without thought or logic,God had brought her right to my doorstep and nothing now fell out as a coincidence.He had made all things right at His time and worked all things together for our good.Even when I had uttered those words without thought a solar period back in time,He took them and used them for His glory.

 

Two sisters Muu and Keshi pass-by to get supplies for their mama,these have not been around for yet another two years drawn and here they come.We end up laughing and talking of God’s goodness and perfection in all imperfect situations.

 

So to cap it all up,this day brought more joy than money could have afforded me in a million years come.The sum hence seems undisputed as true to His words,He works together all things for good for those who are in Christ Jesus(Who love God) and are called according to His will.

 

The music in my background comes alive as I must now rise,today much healthier and at peace with what the Almighty is doing,content in the fact that I may not have all I want but He has supplied all my needs according to His riches in glory.##

 

To God be the glory.

 

PePa.

MERRY FESTIVITIES:The sketches we miss.

What a year this has been and currently in wake trapped in the air of Christmas and a blow of festivities.In the heat of all this it comes so easy for us to literally forget who we are and where we have come from.

Not to bore you with an intended History class 101 am almost persuaded to bring up the most recent reminder by a once blooming yet now established King Kaka.I so candidly remember how a friend I have grown in business with so fondly mentioned how proud she was of the musician.Proud why though you may ask?She was proud because she had seen him sprout from a young struggling Musician,produce songs and get harassed in the process by the police and likes who din’t get very enthused by his perfomaces.To make it short,he had bloomed from Kaloleni a tender rose and grown into a cactus unwavered by the prevailing desert calamities.

He goes right ahead to mention the atrocities of our government systems in an unpopular hit of WAJINGA NYINYI.A gig that made us look at the authorities as gluttons and ill mannered yet it was all but reflective of our amnesia and foolishness to be so easily duped into tribal call groups leading to our ultimate divisions and the inevitable economic breakdowns down to a moral under-surge;call it being totally thrown under-siege morally,socially and even economically.

Well,this is just to jog up your mind to how fast we forget events and our own-selves in process.Detriment of this however,is that these events are the same ones meant to trim and shape our future existence and ultimate survival.

Let me for a moment make my inquest most understandable.I have not been a fan of Gaian documentaries especially most that touch on religion and faith.Ask me why and I will quickly answer reason for thus is that in the quest for knowledge and understanding,man seems to have exhausted his quest and thirst for the same and in retrospect began to question the same source of his existence relegating the truth that in actuality it is the reality of faith and hope that has been the root and water of his development.Did I lose you there?Forgive me if I did,read it again and it will make sense.

Back to the same Gaian documents I come across this very interesting inquest depicting a truth long thrown into the winds that civilization actually began a mere 5000 years ago whilst technology actually roots civilization as a continual process dating back to over 8000 for the Sphinx curvings of Egypt when the area flowed with waters and rivers.I can almost read your mind right now.You thought the Sphinx were built with stone and mortar right?Think again and this time round dig deeper.It is this same mind process and colonization that has made us overlook vital details of life making us get accustomed to usual and lose focus on truth…the same truth we need to make progress for a better today and an improved tomorrow.

Well,truth now is that civilizations din’t actually start just 5000 years ago but rather this 5000 has been a timeline of end of civilizations and start of others as depicted through history.The survival of a civilization hence has been shown to be dependent on the resilience and adaptability to change and growth.

This change and growth hence my dear PePa treader can only be brought about by our acceptance of a failed mindset and a deep desire to break from its encampment. Unlike the Mayan and Sumerian or even Mesopotamian civilizations,we must not only be able to predict the end of our times but also be able to get ready for them.This we must not do by lying to each other to build deep caves and stone hedges as the prior did but by making calculated and planned decisions that does not so easily forget where we have come from but knows that we can fall back as fast as we rose up.

It is a festive season and I shouldn’t bore you with threats of doom now,should I,but just as we was called WAJINGA SISI while thinking it was our leaders of the day aimed at,we can easily lose sight of our surroundings and think it is our leaders failing when actually it is us who are falling.

As we enjoy the moment,let us open our eyes to the bigger picture,let us see our goals and where we are at as we speak,let us not eat up what we have worked for the whole year in a single week of excitement.Let us share the little we have and together have the joy that sprouts not from abundance of money but from wealth of heart.Let us come back again and together make a society that will last for generations.Let us then open our eyes and see tomorrow more clearly than our ancestors predicted we would crash.

Let us build our civilization in earnest.

PePa.

INSOMNIA:sketches of rest

Deep into the cold mornings she tosses

Turns to find her ebbing bearings

Wringes her fingers and curls into her hair

Morning fast approaches

As roaches leave holes to yet find warmth

Her expensive mahogany bed cannot afford such comforts

The cold bites deeper even in sheets of fine

Linen and silk imported far from Arabia

Turkish and Persian in a rival of titans

Brings no peace to a mind caught in between a battle

Of right or wrong and perception lost.

She tucks and pulls closer the sheets to ape sleep

As insomnia reigns higher and towers a shadow above her

Dwarfs her soul as heart cries please

The owl hoots in the distant baobab

Cars screech and hoots along the sidewalks

Heart jerks some more as comfort finds no rest in heart

A drunkard sings merry as he heads home

All these she records in her insomniac mind

See still light will strike upon gaze of dawn

And maybe tomorrow the hope of Salem will be met

With its King Melchizedeck upon His throne for all times.

Peace,Salem,King,Pain,Hurt

And then soon,Peace,Salem,King,ultimate rest.

Sleep lil mama.

PePa.

REST: The sketches of anger.

If I speak from a point of anger then man am not angry yet to the brim cuz hence it is emotions taking center-stage as reason is dissipated to oblivion.

If I speak from a point of action then it means heaven heralded me and see hell has no place for me.

So let us raise the voice of reason and not make it last just a season.Let’s think say a generation and if possible an all time vision.

See words mean nothing if all we do is sit down and not do something.See ears may all be bored and a splinter run through one to the other.But if reason in season embeds same then see we are out of prison.

See our prison is not of visible chains and bars of steel but a system eroded with a filth in occasion and into permission.Permission granted by you and me,running down into collision with purpose and a requisition for propulsion into a future that lays bare for all our wares lay waste in a field of oblivion.

Rest,yes please rest…Let anger not boil over into violence.Let anger not make us sin,let our anger not even be seen.Yes rest.

Let the pain ease,ease into our hearts,ease from our eroding morals and loss of self appreciation not quite intentional though.How so when we had a choice handed down but slapped off or quite chopped off the same hand that offered same solace.

We live in a society….or so I thought.Lately all I see are distinctions between,between those who have and those who think they have only for the same crumbs they deemed their’s to get snatched out of their trembling hands.

And yet another distinction plays to mind and teases the remainder of all known morality into a being without course.A man without anything to show for their’s is a tease of hand to mouth with nothing to put to the same mouth as bare lays the withered hand.

Withered by the same persons who promised hope in hundreds or did my eyes lie to thousands of jobs?

Oooh anger tickles my fancy.A fancy that has remained quite in words more than truth as yet again I don’t want the sun to go down when am still angry for hence am told that it will lead to sin.So let this anger remain in the day,so it would reach your end and ignite passion to action.

Rest,rest I tell my soul.Rest in the hope that this anger kindled by lies and charred to flames still longs to wake up to the reality that this all was a lie!

PePa.

WHO LEFT THESE PATCHES:Sketches of negligence.

Who left these patches?again I ask…what is the meaning of these shameful patches left to expose the filth of our un-wiped behinds?It don’t resemble a clothe of many colors akin to that cut out for Joseph by his loving dad in the old testament.This instead stinks a decadence of gluttony from persons whose bellies have grown too full to notice the filth they leave exposed in their theft and corruption without caution.

Not that caution would play tribute to care in this tirade but as an old writer named Chinua Achebe once wrote in a literary narration called ”A MAN OF THE PEOPLE” heralded by one Odili,”You have eaten too much for the owner to notice”.

In our beloved country we call it a disease of politicians but in silent moments I have found myself in meditation to the same effect,a plight that has had me retracting fault from the chosen leaders of the day,(if only they were actually chosen though in most cases they are) and deflecting same to the common man on the ground in this case not only the citizen but also the voter himself.

A citizen well played in a well crypted movie called ,”THE CITIZEN” played out by a well known Oscar award winner Denzel Washington,a name ever since so Favorited by our friends and brothers from the lakeside,call it the fresh water beaches though most recently losing its initial allure and feel of late catapulted by extensive hyacinth invasion,a scene that I have watched grow dire ever since being of a single digit age to now attaining a legal age and riding over a decade’s period of grace.

Today hence my fingers have literally itched their tips off in a craving to write something down.I so wished I wouldn’t be picking out detriments or grumbling but rather voicing solutions.Solutions better put into play than voiced to a society of blind men and women covered in a mascara of corruption,competition and a desire for self annihilation .A desire so deep embedded the roots cry fault if not fed with more hunger for fresh or even stinking blood.I mean,more is better and even when more is in lacking then the same old can be used and reused for the fill of our hungry filth,right?

Do I sound angry?No,far be it from me that my fingers would itch from anger rather than an earnest thirst for truth and the birth of an idea of change and true growth.Growth that should have started the moment that little baby broke her mother’s placenta and came forth to open their tiny fragile fingers and instead of warm embrace in rushed the air of strain and struggle.A struggle that God in the least did not intend for such a kind but the same must endure due to its parents faults and wrong choice of path till it grows fully and learns to choose right from wrong.Quite a tough gamble brought to play for it since in most cases their fate is almost always sealed unless they have the will and determination graphite to merge into diamonds despite the heat and pressure applied upon them.

Before I go on so deep am sure you are wondering what patches am talking about by now,the ones who left them am sure you already know.Stopped pointing incriminating fingers yet?You left them and so did I?How so you may ask when you know not even what patches are these that stink so much I don’t want to put a mention or is it finger to them?

Literally they are these patches along the roads purported to have been initially tarmacked roads but now remain a rag of mopping clothe waiting to be carried and thrown off into the litter.Instead of an extreme overhaul however,we have tracks from the county offices sent over the weekend with casual handymen who have no idea in road construction being sent like thieves on a Sunday to pour in stones and soil in the now craters masking the roads.Literal patches of many colors,these however unlike beautiful rainbow colors with scents of flowers and a buzz of bees stink dishonesty and mulnaurishment to an economy already crippled and burdened by foreign debt.

But am sure all these rantings don’t matter till you are sweetly cruising down the road,jeeez why do I even use the word cruise when the fastest you can do on these roads is a 10-20 kph? Yes,you on that snail 10-20 kph when you hear your shocks and car body test the effectiveness of your second hand Japanese car bushes! It is a hard romp without a bed and the result is a broken arm courtesy of beauty patches on the road.Even the bushes throw caution to the wind and give up on you.

Ever felt like when God said come now let us reason together these guys had gone for a holiday and got no memo that we all need to work together and not prosper to the detriment of the weaker persons?

Maybe I rant too much but from my dark black out in a neighborhood having electricity for a fourth to fifth day running I feel like I personally am paying for my sins,sins that were long paid for on the cross yet my choices still bring me back to this stinking outcome.Not that they of the neighbourhood with lights made a better choice though?It is just that today the trees in this monkey’s forest are all wet and slippery,always happens when monkey’s day to die is come. A luck they can’t ride on always you know?

In all essence am trying to remove is the log in my own eyes before removing the speck in another’s eye.Sincerely I need to open up my eyes and see more clearly or maybe un-wax my ears so I don’t miss the sermon of truth along the way chocked by the cares of the world or thorns of my desires.

For a moment I want to know that I am the one who bored these patches so deep they stink from miles off and the next time they glare at me I will know that I am the one who forgot to fix them when i had a chance to.

I will not ask who left these patches even when I know funds were availed for a better dam to hold the raging flooding waters planned to come yet all of it blew up in scandals lost in news reports and papers stuffed down the drain and lost in court rooms covered by lump-sums of stolen money in bribes.So now the lives of un-moneyed low living ballot casters,sorry citizens have to pay for the same decision uninformed or not they made when they chose tribe over sense,sorry,choices I see.

Choices I must make today so that my tomorrow,sorry our children’s tomorrow may be a better smelling scent than the patches f excrement now lining our wake.Because truth be told,enough about me,or you,or my friend,or my brother,or my mother,or my schoolmate,or my village-mate,or my tribes-mate…..enough about all these selfish accolades if all we leave behind is a bad stench uncovered in the patches of our choices.If we are to cover up these patches then we must shift blame to ourselves,learn our mistakes and rise as one to rebuild a brand new nation.

We left the patches.

PePa.

ANSWERED PRAYERS: The sketches of pain.

Fingers itch in absence of pen with drip of ink upon lines of paper.Been a while far from home,far from the confines of my arena,the same that others behold as a prison for me plays as home of comfort and utmost release.Yes,what to write on the other hand has sure evaded my insight as plight to prevailing happenings seem to crowd mere essence of self.

 

Well,with passing time and a growing sense of absence my inner being sure has yearned for the embrace of this love affair with PePa.Even lovers need a holiday and by this I mean in part from one the other.

 

Well,here we are again,years after the Katrina,a famous line I heard in my younger years.Always made me feel like the rapper of the year.Well,we ain’t rapping today however,rather conveying a recap of past cold days in  a wake tp gain momentum for coming days.

 

I honestly hope our flow is in sync as by now most if not all treaders upon these lines are expecting a tale of sorts.Sorry to let you off sadly because in my wake is no tale rather a relay of inner pangs.Not pangs of a mother in labor however as these could be deeper in cut.I always wondered what could be more painful than a mother in labor till I realized that a mother gets rewarded with the joys of her newborn’s cries of letting the first wind of breath down their lungs,in addition to this is the embrace of that little baby’s tiny figure in her hands>>>>all those prior qualms,fears and anguish of childbirth all get dissipated just by the tiny one’s ebbing cries in the realization they have been introduced into a strange existence without.

 

A world in which they enter with their hands opened in anticipation of much only to realize they have to offer more than they are willing to take away.

 

So tell me my dear PePa treader,what could cut deeper than the anguish of child birth?Well,if you was following,the answer lies much closer at heart than home.The pain sets in not at child birth but much later and not to the bearer but to the one delivered.

 

See they came with open hands in anticipation to receive but in turn met a cold biting and even breath ripping reality.You see by now what I had in heart was no smooth and pleasant tale but a harsh and almost dumbfounding reality.It is only if not mostly comparable to my initially illustrated arena though that came with peace to quip.

 

This here is in essence the very reality a child is never prepared for save for the kinds in early Greek,I mean Spartan homes back in the BC.Most would look at our present day absent of sword and machete as a more civilized and even safer play area whilst in essence living and dying by the sword in ancient days brought a more glorious death than presented today.

 

Today we have more ”civilized” deaths and not to misquote me let the the term civilized remain locked in quotes for sarcasm.What is a civilized death when we strangle ourselves out through debts sanctions imposed by our very choice of poor leadership.”Poor” allow me to add points not towards lack but rather a deprivation of the right choices from our hearts but a choice driven by lusts and selfless,no I mean selfish ambitions and hence propagating an onset of a man eat man society through the cast of  uneducated choices.

 

Just in case am losing my dear companion in this avid trail let me go back to that little baby born into a world that should have made the path better already but instead this is what they get.

 

They come into a world that requires them to pay for the very life they have been handed right at birth,may not make sense at this point but if you choose to tread a little more with me you will get in scope with my reasoning and as one we will realize that when a parent takes a loan that should be paid for another 40 say to 50 years in a society with a life expectancy of 67.3 years as given by 2016 it technically means the parent has taken the loan to be repaid by the new born when they grow up.Well,am no economist pa se but a little insight makes the heart wiser …wiser huh?

 

It is a beautiful world though and these sure are the days of our lives.Days in which we must pray to the Almighty to pour upon our ailing lands enough water to grow our fields for an entire season.Yes and He is sure faithful for pour He pours the very waters and rain  we cry out for yet to a foolish generation the same harvest of water was never planned for.Am I being too paranoid or crude in my descriptions ?Why be soft on words when all truth lays in the pains of our actions.Actions that bore deep into our hearts and find path through already bleeding pockets creating a hollow of unending sorrows.

 

In prior times we would be tempted to say that surely God has forsaken our land when in actuality we are the forsakers of the same God in our ways that warrant rebuke yet we term it development.If we had been asked to put in work before delivery of the blessing then we would delve deeper in wonder if this God who needed us to work before blessing us was really true.Well,a famous song still draws me back in memory saying,plant the trees and let them grow,don’t you see you are destroying humanity…..

 

Well,with an already tampered land and repercussions flowing in ripples you will wonder if that little buddy born to their mother prior to this day still has a chance of breaking even?With a burden of the economy on their frail shoulders you still think it is an impossibility to have a greener tomorrow than the land speaks today huh?

 

Is there anything impossible really?The term impossible rather is what makes my heart pain as it eats down to the marrow of an already crippled bone….impossible is such an impossible impossibility if we could for once get prepared for the blessing before bleeding our knees in prayers that if answered break our mere backbones.

 

So embrace the flooding waters and let them open your inner eyes to the reality of our mistakes.Don’t crush however under the pain of regret but learn from the mistakes of today to make an educated if not wise decision tomorrow.As long as you still draw breath,consider it a worthy gift and blessing for you to make all impossibilities possibilities according to God’s power that is at work within you.

 

Spread joy and speak love with PePa,then make a better day rather than hope for a good one.

 

PePa.

 

 

 

BEAUTY FOR ASHES: Sketches of withdrawal.

Familiar rests,more like a prison of sorts.The consternations within.Sometimes,most times even so often moments.My brain speaks to me,convincing my heart to be at peace.

Yes,brain tells heart that worry will ware it away.But heart knows brain lacks understanding of current predicament.The two wrestle,one to ease the other and the other in a hunger to be understood,listened to or even felt.

Who will win the fight tonight is a question of perils.Best left to the nethers to decide.I hear choice was left or rather given to each yet same choice sets path to detriment of both.

Head laughs out loud.More like lol in modern day abbreviations.Abbreviations which would work best to cut short these constant perils in the mind.A sudden freeze to death of brain.If only heart’s aches would burn off the cold in mind.

See even heart in wake of pain still holds morals and care all but seem certain habit.But it hurts still though this gesture aids in soothe of pain.More like a caress to her ego.

Still hope of a brighter dawn looms above the door railing,capped by streaks of silver and gold upon planks of ash stripping off in continuous deterioration.The very truth revealed in the rise of a falcon from among the ashes in wings splayed with streaks of gold and silver.

A sound in retrospect melodies in back set in ground.A most welcome tune to ebb the storm within the aching soul….yes,I hear and hence wait to see that truly,He bestows a crown of beauty in place of ashes and surely into the darkness He shines and out of the ashes we rise.

Tonight I find rest in God…as tomorrow I glow for Him.

SWEET DREAMS:——

PEPA.