May it be
An evening star
Shines down
Upon you 

May it be
When darkness falls
Your heart
Will be true 

You walk a lonely road
Oh how far you are from home 

Mornië utúlië [Quenya: 'Darkness has come'] 
Believe and you
Will find your way 

Mornië alantië [Quenya: 'Darkness has fallen']
A promise lives
Within you now 

May it be
The shadow's call
Will fly away 

May it be
A journey on
To light the day 

When the night is all gone
You may rise
To find the sun 

Mornië utúlië [Quenya: 'Darkness has come'] 
Believe and you
Will find your way 

Mornië alantië [Quenya: 'Darkness has fallen'] 
A promise lives
Within you now 

A promise lives
Within you now...
 

My Inspirations, My Cats:

Theresa

Angela

Webshots:

Great Place to find inspiring and simply beautiful pictures for your desktop.  You can make through their program a screensaver or their pictures or simply an elegant background for your desktop.  You can change it when your mood desires:

http://www.webshots.com/

I watched her, silently playing amongst the trees in our driveway that first winter together.  It was almost like she looked as if she belonged on the front of a Hallmark card.  Barely three, she tried 
to make a angel in the virgin snow in her overstuffed snowsuit of pink.  I stifled a giggle as I watched her, she needn't make an 
angel in the snow - she was already.

I felt my husband come up to me then, watching us and unable to surpress the urge to take a picture of her.  Taking out his camera, he didn't say a word as he crouched and took a snapshot of her 
little image with his instant camera.  Smiling, he leaned over to show it to me.  It begin to appear gradually. 

I took it from his hand and looked at it.  Suddenly, a flood of emotions came over me and I began to cry to myself.

It was the first winter of my happiness.  I never knew it could happen, something that could creep up on you - joy.  It was than that I knew what life was and that it was worth fighting for.  No 
one ever guessed my life would come to this point.  My husband knew, and he thought it as he held me close.

"Don't cry, sweetheart, it's alright!" he whispered, gently in my ear turning rouge from the chill in the air.  He held me for a moment and I lost myself to him in his embrace.  "I'm happy too."

Thank God, for the small things in life, I thought.  The snow that crunched under our feet, the air that I took into my lungs so much that it stung now as it fought it's way back out, the feel of his parka under my fingers and the warmth of his arms around me, 
my little daughter looking at us in curiousity out of the corner of 
my eye.

I fought so very hard to be in this place in my life.  People I knew and loved before all there for me, leading me to believe that life would get better, even if the pain would never completely go away.  To know that no matter what life presented, some day, I would see the other end of it.  I never believed them until now, on this Christmas morning with my new husband and child with me.  My new family. 

Family, it was something that I always wanted, a family.  Growing up, it was almost as something I wanted to create, like a fantasy. 
I wanted to be like the neighbours we had, there was three brothers and a sister, a dad always present, a mom always loving.  They reminded you of sitcom parents.  I almost thought that little Jake, the boy next store was lying to me all along when he told me of his happiness.  I didn't know what that was.

But, despite it all, no one knew.  Jake always thought I knew of happiness too, that's why he played with me all the time.  That's why his mom always invited us over for kool-aid and cookies.  We were those 'sweet little kids next door'.

Yet, I knew the emptiness of that.  I knew what I knew, and had to live like a ghost in my house, haunted by my waking nightmares that I couldn't escape for years. 

I stood there, quietly thinking to myself.  Like my mind hadn't spoken a million words before, that my heart told me wasn't true. 
I could still remember those words now as the embrace of the cold winter kissed my bare face.

You will see that if you are strong, you will see that you will come out of this, someday.

Now, looking at her, as she came racing for my arms that I reached out for her.  I knew that it was true, and the cool morning air as the first snow of the season fell on our heads - felt a little warmer all of a sudden.  My tears stopped and I picked her up, walking away.  The footsteps we left in the snow, disappearing as soon as we laid them...

Happy House:

A cute little download that will have a virtual hamster on your desktop...

http://www.maniform.com/stuff/hamster.htm

Right now somebody loves you 
Right now somebody dreams about you 
Right now somebody needs you 
Right now somebody’s proud of you 

Right now somebody’s calling your name 
Right now somebody’s hoping your well 
Right now somebody’s feeling your shame 
Right now somebody cares if you live 

Right now somebody hears you 
Right now somebody knows who you are 
Right now someone is praying for you 
Right now someone believes in your heart 

Right now somebody wants to be your friend 
Right now somebody’s thinking about you 
Right now someone is wondering where 
you are 

Right now you are a piece of it all 
A piece of it all 
A piece of it all 
You are a piece of it all
 

Such souls, 
Whose sudden visitations daze the world, 
Vanish like lightning, but they leave behind 
A voice that in the distance far away 
Wakens the slumbering ages. 

Henry Taylor

Some day, in years to come, you will be wrestling with the great temptation, or trembling under the great sorrow of your 
life. But the real struggle is here, now, in these quiet weeks. Now it is being decided whether, in the day of your supreme sorrow 
or temptation, you shall miserably fail or gloriously conquer. Character cannot be made except by a steady, long-continued process.

Phillips Brooks
 

Rascal the Raccoon

One of the cutest screenmates you'll find at Screenmate Village

http://www.screen-mates.com/index.php

Virgil Spencer's got a nineteen-inch Hitachi
And many demons lingering
Friday night he pulled a gun to change the channel
Something that he picked up from the King
His wife remembers well the man she knew
Seems the dreams she had have all 
turned black and blue
She's wasted years 
No time for tears

[Chorus]
Cause there's another chance and a someday soon
Shining like the Alabama moon
She's looking for her promised land
Out beyond the lights of... 
Birmingham

It's three a.m. and Virgil's passed 
out on the sofa
a fifth of Jim Beam on the floor
She's packed a bag she slips the 
keys out of his pocket
She's careful not to slam the door
And as she drives she rubs her rosary
She's never been so all alone, she's 
never felt so free
She's got miles to go
Blind faith and hope 

Chorus

As the rain falls down upon the 
interstate
Any doubts she had are all but 
washed away one long look back
At Birmingham
 

Nobody is stronger, nobody is weaker 
than someone who came back. There is nothing you can do to such a person because whatever you could do is less 
than what has already been done to him. We have already paid the price.

Elie Wiesel

The Trivia Portal
http://www.funtrivia.com/

Pogo.com
http://www07.pogo.com/index.jsp?sls=2

Shockwave Fun
http://www.shockwave.com/sw/home/

Somewhere there's a river, looking 
for a stream
Somewhere there's a dreamer, looking for a dream
Somewhere there's a drifter, trying 
to find its way
Somewhere someone's waiting to hear somebody say

I believe in you, and I can't even count  the ways that 
I believe in you, and I want to do is 
help you to believe in you

Somewhere someone's reaching 
trying to grab that ring
Somewhere there's a silent voice 
learning how to sing
Some of us can't move ahead we're paralized with fear
And everybody's waiting, to hear 
somebody say

I believe in you, and I can't even 
count the ways that 
I believe in you, and all I want to do 
is help you to believe in you

I believe in you, and I can't even 
count the ways that 
I believe in you, and all I want to do 
is help you to believe in you

I will hold you up
I will help you stand 
I will comfort you when you need 
a friend
I will be the voice that's calling I 
(hold till fade)

I believe in you and I can't even 
count the ways that
I believe in you and there are just 
so many ways that 
I believe in you and all I want to 
do is help you to believe in you

ECards (Fun and Touching):

Hallmark
Blue Mountain
American Greetings
EGreetings.com
Yahoo Greetings
ECards

Actually, I do have an email in my file about friends that is relevant. You may have seen it before, I know it's circulated around the 'net. Here it is:

People come into your life for 
a REASON, a SEASON, or a LIFETIME. 

When you figure out which it is, you know exactly what to do.When someone is in your life for a REASON, 

It is usually to meet a need you have expressed outwardly or inwardly. 
They have come to assist you.
Through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally, or spiritually. 
They may seem like a godsend, and they are. 

They are there for the reason you need them to be. 
Then, without any wrongdoing on 
your part or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end. 
Sometimes they die.
Sometimes they walk away. 
Sometimes they act up or out and force you 
to take a stand. 

What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled; their work is done. 
The prayer you sent up has been answered
and it is now time to move on.

When people come into your life for a SEASON, it is because your turn has come to share, grow, or learn. 

They may bring you an experience of peace 
or make you laugh. 
They may teach you something you have 
never done.
They usually give you an unbelievable 
amount of joy.

Believe it! It is real! But, only for a season.  LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons; those things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. 

Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person/people (any way); and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.

It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.
 

Sound of Silence 
Raymond J. Baughan

Here in the space between us and the 
worldlies human meaning.
Into the vast uncertainty we call.
The echoes make our music,
sharp equations which can hold the stars,
and marvelous mythologies we trust.

This may be all we need to lift our love 
against indifference and pain.

Here in the space between us and each 
other lies all the future of the fragment of 
the universe which is our own.
 

How Many Friends?
Author Unknown

An old man turned to me and asked
"How many friends have you?" 
Why 10 or 20 friends have I, 
And named off just a few... 

He rose quite slow with effort 
And sadly shook his head
"A lucky child you are
To have so many friends," he said 

But think of what you're saying
There is so much you do not know 
A friend is just not someone 
To whom you say "Hello" 

A friends a tender shoulder
On which to softly cry 
A well to pour your troubles down 
And raise your spirits high 

A friend is a hand to pull you up
From darkness and despair... 
When all your other "so called" friends 
Have helped to put you there 

A true friend is an ally 
Who can't be moved or bought 
A voice to keep your name alive 
When others have forgot 

But most of all a friend is a heart 
A strong and sturdy wall 
For from the hearts of friends 
There comes the greatest love of all!!! 

So think of what I've spoken 
For every word is true 
And answer once again my child 
How many friends have you??? 

And then he stood and faced me 
Awaiting my reply 
Softly I answered 
"If lucky...... one have "I" 

"You!!!!"

More Craziness from The Urban Legends Reference Pages
http://www.snopes2.com/

Actual newspaper headlines for 1997: 

1. Something Went Wrong in Jet Crash, Expert Says 
2. Police Begin Campaign to Run Down Jaywalkers 
3. Drunk Gets Nine Months in Violin Case 
4. Survivor of Siamese Twins Joins Parents 
5. Iraqi Head Seeks Arms 
6. Prostitutes Appeal to Pope 
7. British Left Waffles on Falkland Islands 
8. Lung Cancer in Women Mushrooms 
9. Eye Drops Off Shelf 
14. Clinton Wins on Budget, But More Lies Ahead 
15. Enraged Cow Injures Farmer With Ax 
16. Plane Too Close to Ground, Crash Probe Told 
17. Miners Refuse to Work after Death 
18. Juvenile Court to Try Shooting Defendant 
19. Stolen Painting Found by Tree 
20. Two Sisters Reunited After 18 Years in Checkout Counter 
21. Killer Sentenced to Die for Second Times in 10 Years 
22. Never Withhold Herpes Infection from Loved One 
23. War Dims Hope for Peace 
24. If Strike Isn't Settled Quickly, It May Last a While 
25. Cold Wave Linked to Temperatures 
26. Deer Kill 17,000 
27. Enfields Couple Slain; Police Suspect Homicide
28. Red Tape Holds Up New Bridges 
29. Typhoon Rips Through Cemetery; Hundreds Dead 
30. Man Struck By Lightning Faces Battery Charge 
31. New Study of Obesity Looks for Larger Test Group 
32. Astronaut Takes Blame for Gas in Spacecraft 
34. Chef Throws His Heart into Helping Feed Needy 
35. Arson Suspect Held in Massachusetts Fire 
36. Ban On Soliciting Dead in Trotwood 
38. New Vaccine May Contain Rabies 
39. Hospitals are Sued by 7 Foot Doctors
 

Good Enough
by Sarah MacLachlan

Hey your glass is empty
It's a hell of a long way home
Why don't you let me take you
It's no good to go alone
I never would have opened up
But you seemed so real to me
After all the bullshit I've heard
It's refreshing not to see

I don't have to pretend
She doesn't expect it from me
Don't tell me I haven't been good to you
Don't tell me I have never been there for you
Don't tell me why
Nothing is good enough

Hey little girl would you like some candy
Your momma said that it's ok
The door is open come on outside
No I can't come out today
It's not the wind that cracked your shoulder
And threw you to the ground
Who's there that makes you so afraid

You're shaken to the bone
And I don't understand
You deserve so much more than this
So don't tell me why
He's never been good to you
Don't tell me why
He's never been there for you
Don't you know that why
Is simply not good enough

So just let me try
And I will be good to you
Just let me try
And I will be there for you
I'll show you why
You're so much more than good enough...
 

BONE
(Bastard out of Carolina) 
© 2001 Larry Looney

The inspiration for this song came from Dorothy Allison’s incredibly moving autobiographical novel BASTARD OUT OF CAROLINA – also very well done as a film, directed by Anjelica Huston.  Both works are extremely sensitive and intelligently presented.  Read the book – see the film.

My Christian name is Ruth Ann – ever’body calls me Bone.

I’m a bastard, says the State of Carolina,
but that don’t mean a thing to me – I’ve been hurt, but I have grown.
I’m a girl who’s put the worst of life behind her.

My momma always told us that she loved us more than life, there was nothin’ that could break the bond between us, but ever’thing began to change when she became his wife –
I could feel it from the first time that he seen us.

We waited in the car while momma lay in 
labor long, my little sister Reese asleep in dreamland.
He held me on his lap, he made me feel so awful wrong – and the smell of him I couldn’t hardly stand.

The first time that I made him mad, he beat me black and blue – his belt it flew like there was no tomorrow.
I thought that it was all my fault – if I had 
only knew that I was not the cause of all my sorrow.

Call me Bone – I have borne a pain that no 
one in this life should ever know.
I will open it, and make from it a song, that I may grow, that you may know to call me Bone…

I had to get away from him – so Raylene took me in, to stay with her a while down by the river.
I learned a lot of things from her – I learned 
to look within, to try to love my momma, to forgive her.

When I was there alone one day, he knocked upon the door – he raped and beat me, just to prove his power.
My momma came and caught him in the act, but not before he left me with my lifetime’s darkest hour.

I know that it will take a while – the anger is so deep – to understand how she could be so blind.
I know I want to love her, to have her for to keep – but I’m afraid he has a stronger hold upon her mind.

The hurt of what he did to me will never go away – the welts and bruises they won’t last forever, but all the scars upon my soul are here with me to stay – the living lines of pain cannot be severed.

Call me Bone – I have borne a pain that no child in this life should ever know.
I will open it, and make from it a song, that I may grow.
Call me Bone – I will tell my story every time I find a listening ear.
I have lived eleven years, I have cried a million tears, but I will stand up strong – call me Bone.

(28 June – 16 July 2001)
 

IT SHOULD'VE BEEN SWEET
© 1999 Larry Looney

Written (and very often played) through 
tears, trying to express the heartbreak of knowing what a blessing from God the father-daughter relationship should be…

When he held you in his arms,
it should've been to comfort you,
to keep your heart from harm,
to guard you while you sleep,
to cradle you so warm,
to rest you in a love complete --
when he held his child within his arms, oh God, it should've been sweet.

When I look into your eyes,
I see the pain that tortures you --
all the tears that you have cried
bring it closer to release --
and when I hear your sighs,
I pray for God to shelter you,
and let His love replace the hurt
that robs you of your peace.

I can see the innocence that lives within 
your heart --time and faith can work to set 
it free:  time will bring you healing, dear, faith will let it start.
You hold your life within your hands 
close your eyes and see…

When he held you in his arms,
it should've been to comfort you,
to keep your heart from harm,
to guard you while you sleep,
to cradle you so warm,
to rest you in a love complete --
when he held his child within his arms, oh God, it should've been sweet.

…such a holy gift within his arms --
oh God, it should've been sweet…

18-20 January 1999

(…for D)
 

PHOENIX RISING
© 1998 Larry Looney

A song to encourage and heal – but a love 
song all the same.  I'm grateful to have been allowed to write this, grateful that it has helped not just D, for whom it was written, but others as well.

You've nothing to live up to,
there's not a test to take --
your soul comes shining through,
a brighter day will break.

The love you hold within you
will be allowed to fly --
the growing will continue,
through all the tears you cry.

Hold to your spirit,
reach for your dreams.
Love can heal, don't fear it --
the goal is closer than it seems.

And as your heart remembers
the pain your mind would hide,
like the phoenix from the embers,
emerge then, purified.

Lean on those who love you,
ones to stand beside,
who put no one above you --
God will be your guide.

Hold to your spirit,
reach for your dreams.
Love can heal, don't fear it --
the goal is closer than it seems.

Spring 1998

(…for D)
 

(Prayer for)  THE TURNING OF THE YEAR
© 2002 Larry Looney

On Christmas Day, 2001, I attended a party 
at the home of a coworker.  At the table, in lieu of a prayer, he and his wife asked each one of the guests to take a moment and reflect on the blessings in their lives.  It was 
a very moving moment. It was still on my mind a few nights later – I wrote this on New Year’s Eve, a time for reflection in the best 
as well as the worst of times.  The events of 11 September were of course in my thoughts – but it also struck me that we often go blindly through our days without stopping to think about the blessings we enjoy.  This, therefore, is a prayer of thanks and hope...

Winds of night are blowing colder, evening settles deep – memories will bring a smile, 
a sigh, a salty tear.

Through the dark we reach out for a loving hand to keep, a gentle light to guide us, at 
the turning of the year.

Father, Mother, Holy Perfect Parent of us all,
bend Your patient ear to me – I’m not sure where to start.

Look into my soul, I pray, as on my knees I fall, here before the altar that You built 
within my heart.

All the pain we see before us causes us to shrink – we see the lives of thousands crumble, buried in the dust. If we stop for 
just a moment, long enough to think,
we realize how easily the victims could be 
us.

All the blessings in our lives, all the joy and pain – do we know we have them when we 
hold them in our hand?

Every precious moment fades, and never comes again – help us love and cherish them, help us understand.

As I look upon my child – a holy gift of grace –
the love it overflows my heart and fills my 
soul with light.

All the gentle wonder that is shining from her face gives me hope and courage as I face the coming night.

Kiss the brow of my beloved, wash away her tears – let her feel the love within me, let her shelter there.

Guard her and protect as she banishes her fears – let me love her gently, let me show how much I care.

Help me honor those who bless me with the gift of love – may I choose my words with care, and never wound their heart.

Open up my eyes to them, help me rise above all the earthly trials that can pull our lives apart.

Hold me to Your breast, I pray, guide me with Your light – fill my dreams with visions of the ones I hold so dear.

Bless me with the peace to hold the truth within my sight – love will be my lantern, at the turning of the year.

31 December 2001 – 1 January 2002

Footsteps In The Sand
Author Unknown

One night a man had a dream.
He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the LORD.
Across the sky flashed scenes from his life.
For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand:
one belonging to him, and the other to the LORD.

When the last scene of his life flashed before him he looked back, at the footprints in the sand.
He noticed that many times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints.
He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times of his life.

This really bothered him and he questioned the LORD about it:
"LORD, you said that once I decided to follow you, you'd walk with me all the way.
But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life
there is only one set of footprints.
I don't understand why when I needed you most you would leave me."

The LORD replied:
"My son, My precious child, I love you and I would never leave you,
During your times of trial and suffering,
when you see only one set of footprints, it 
was then that I carried you."

Author unknown

"The reality of the other person is not in 
what he reveals to you, but in what he 
cannot reveal to you. Therefore, if you would understand him, listen not to what he says 
but rather what he does not say." 

Kahlil Gibran

"There's nothing like a gleam of humor to reassure you that a fellow human being is ticking inside a strange face." 

Eva Hoffman, from "Exit into History"

"Friendship is one mind in two bodies." 

Mencius

Thanks Abbey for the wonderful poem!
Abbey

Far away, at the end of a narrow tunnel, in another dimension, a light shines brightly in my eyes bars cast errie shadows across the dark, empty room of my mind.

I am happy, I am safe.

This is my fortress, against you.
No matter how hard it’s rattled
or
How hard you try to break it
I will stand
Unaffected.

The people in my fortress
are kind and understanding
even, in the shadows.

I am happy. I am safe.

There is only one key holding it’s odd shape 
in my palm,
Slowly
Slowly
I release from my sweaty hand
the only key.
Darkness swallows it.
Gone

I am happy, I am safe.

Standing
Smiling
Staring 
at that distant light

When you get to the end of all the light you know and it's time to step into the darkness 
of the unknown, faith is knowing that one of two things shall happen: either you will be given something solid to stand on, or you 
will be taught how to fly. 

Edward Teller

May you find serenity and tranquility in a 
world you may not always understand. May 
the pain you have known and the conflict you have experienced give you the strength to walk through life facing each new situation with courage and optimism. Always know 
that there are those whose love and understanding will always be there, even 
when you feel most alone. May you discover enough goodness in others to believe in a world of peace. May a kind word, a 
reassuring touch, and a warm smile be yours every day of your life, and may you give 
these gifts as well as receive them. Remember the sunshine when the storm seems unending. 

Teach love to those who hate, and let that love embrace you as you go out into the 
world. May the teachings of those you 
admire become part of you, so that you may call upon them. Remember, those whose lives you have touched and whose have touched yours are always a part of you, even if the encounters were less than you would have wished. It is the content of the encounter 
that is more important than the form. 

May you not become too concerned with material matters, but instead place immeasurable value on the goodness in your heart. Find time each day to see beauty and love in the world around you. Realize that each person has limitless abilities, but each of us is different in our own way. What you feel you lack in the present may become one of your strengths in the future. May you see your future as one filled with promise and possibility. Learn to view everything as a worthwhile experience. May you find enough inner strength to determine your own worth 
by yourself, and not be dependent on another's judgment of your accomplishments. May you always feel loved.

Unknown

~In California, in 1928, there was a musician named Jon who lived in an apartment near the shore. He spent his days worrying about having enough to 
make it through the week, about his life. 

However, he had his music to turn to, and he could craft the most beautiful, haunting melodies. 

One especially crisp morning, he put on 
his old jacket, the only jacket he owned, and he took a stroll down to the boardwalk. He carried his saxophone under his arm 
and looked up to the unending blue sky feeling thankful for his life, even if he wasn't exactly sure where it was going. He began to play, letting his doubts and his worries flow through the vibrations of his song. He closed his eyes, and dreamed of 
a better life, when suddenly he felt a tapping on his shoulder. When he once again felt the light of day enter his vision, a woman so beautiful stood before him, dressed so perfectly. 

He thought she must be rich. She smiled 
at him, held out her hand and said she wanted to talk to him. He felt as if he had never awakened that morning, that he was still dreaming. She asked him why he was sitting there playing on the boardwalk, he was obviously a very talented artist. He looked at her bewildered and said it was 
all he could think of doing.

He thought she would laugh and send him on his way at this point, after all, what would a woman of her status want with a scruffy street musician like himself. She lifted her delicate purse dangling from her equally delicate arm and Jon's eyes widened, his thoughts rushing. 

Her piercing gray eyes stared directly at 
his tired, pessimistic face, and with a 
smile she said, "Well I hope to see you again someday." 

She pulled a gold compact from her purse and powdered her ivory cheeks. Jon's heart fell, for his expectations and split-second dreams had lifted him to dangerous heights. He extended his dirty, worn fingers and pressed them around her angelic hand, and they parted ways.

That night, he couldn't get her off his 
mind. He sat by his window, looking at 
the night sky knowing that somewhere 
she was beneath those same stars. He barely slept, reliving the events of the day before in his mind. In the morning he retraced his steps, leaned on the very 
same stretch of wooden fence, closed his eyes once more when suddenly his ears perceived the sound of an engine approaching. The driver seemed to stare 
at Jon and slow as he looked him up and down.

Jon softly let his note fall as the car stopped. From the back seat a graceful silhouette leaned forward and waved for him come over. As his eyes adjusted, he saw it was the same beautiful stranger from the day before and his formerly 
heavy heart flew and fluttered in his chest.

His feet carried his dazed body to her 
door, and she told him to get in. Visibly shaken, he pulled the handle and entered 
a spacious, sparkling interior. He sat 
across from her facing the back window, and she stared at him with that same curious smile.

He asked her, "Where are we going?"
She said, "You'll see when we get there!"

Feeling a mixture of giddy excitement 
and fear, he said not one word as the car traveled down the road. He watched as the familiar buildings passed him by as they drove into the center of town. He saw the intimidating exterior of the theater come into view, and wondered if that was where his journey would end. Sure enough, as the motion slowed and the door swung open 
the marble steps of the theater stretched out before him.

The woman told Jon to get out, not to be afraid. Jon stumbled up the steps, wondering what she was going to do with him in such an important place in which he felt he didn't belong. Insecurities filled his mind, but he felt the pressure of her hand on his back.

With that simple gesture she lifted him up those steps, lifted his soul. He walked through the heavy doors and peered left and right at the unending luxurious room.
A group of musicians dressed in tuxedos talked quietly in one corner and the woman called over to them. Each of their heads turned simultaneously, and they 
approached with smiles on their faces. 

She told them she had a surprise for them, she felt she had found a true gem, a gift that no one had yet discovered. She patted Jon's shoulder, and told him to play something. His hands shook as he lifted 
the saxophone to his lips. His reluctance was obvious and almost completely overwhelming, causing his first few notes to crack and falter. The musicians looked 
at each other, quite amused that the woman had brought this bum that couldn't even play.

Just as their laughter peaked at its 
loudest, a shrill, powerful note came from Jon's saxophone. It sweetly fell into a 
deep, seductive swirling melody. Every 
ear, every heart in the room swelled and flowed with the music he created. The musicians were so stunned, they stood there for a minute after he finished. They all eventually realized what had just 
happened, looked at each other, shook 
his hand and told him he was hired.

Jon turned with tears in his eyes to see 
the angel that had brought him there but 
all he saw was a swinging door and the bright light of the afternoon leaking through.

Jon's lips trembled as he fought to hold back the tears. He asked them where she went, and they echoed, "She who?"

He said quizzically, "The woman that brought me here!"

They looked at him for quite a long time, and they told him that he had walked in alone, they had no idea what he was 
talking about. Jon fell backwards into a chair, and he passed out. When he came to, he was surrounded by the same few 
men in tuxedos. They asked him if he needed something to eat, he was talking crazy before he passed out. He said no, 
and explained that he was just out in the sunshine for too long, he'd be fine.

That night he performed for the first time with the band, and as the weeks passed, his solos became longer. His name 
traveled up the list in the program. He became a success ... and gained 
fulfillment beyond his wildest dreams. 
Every night... he dedicated his 
performance ....to his angel... :)
 

CHARLOTTE  (speak to me)
© 2001 Larry Looney

Inspired by Kathy Hepinstall's wonderful novel THE HOUSE OF GENTLE MEN -- one 
of the most impressive literary debuts I have ever come across --  an engrossing, intelligent, sensitive story of pain and redemption.  Charlotte is the main character.

Charlotte walked into the field alone to 
find a love --perhaps a soldier from the 
sky that she could call her own.
The long grass snagged the hem of her 
blue dress.  The sky above
was empty -- in her heart a yearning she had never known.

Took her by the arm they did, but roughly, not a gentle hand --
so unlike the kisses in the summer arbor shade -- tore her dress to blind her eyes and pushed her down into the sand,the only witness mother earth, the form her body made.

Charlotte, speak to me -- let me 
know the pain,tell me of the years it took to find your voice again.
Tell the story through, so my heart 
can see -- tell me what they did to you. 
Oh, Charlotte, speak to me…

Deep within her aching heart the fiery mother memory burns,
perfection's image broken -- the phoenix could not fly.
A thousand times the scene will play itself.  The camera turns -- from every angle, nothing new -- she can no longer cry.

Spoken words are left behind -- their weakened meanings useless here --
she will not speak before her chance to 
look upon his face,the third one with the chance to save her  (took his turn instead, in fear).  Now tormented souls are 
reaching out through time and space.

Charlotte, speak to me -- let me share the pain, let me wash my sins away -- let me live again.
Look into my eyes -- tell me what 
you see -- I have borne a burden too.  Oh, Charlotte, speak to me...

Justin holds her in his arms so 
sweetly now -- the demons sleep --
the air tonight is filled with sighs of promises to hold.
Here inside the House, the night is still, 
the dreams are deep
and healing -- sweet forgiveness brings a shelter to enfold.

In the night a hero comes -- bent on vengeance, steeped in love,
eager to pursue his course and blinded by his rage.
Anger turns to fear and then to courage from somewhere above --
a second chance, a gift of grace, to turn another page.

Charlotte, speak to me -- let me know the pain, tell me of the years it took to find your voice again.
Tell the story through, so my heart 
can see -- tell me what they did to you. 
Oh, Charlotte, speak to me…

1 December 2000-4 January 2001
 

DEVI MA  (HOLY MOTHER)
© 1998 Larry Looney

A prayer of complete submission to the Divine, represented here in the female form as Shakti.

Holy Mother, grant me mercy,
come and touch my heart with grace –
I am weary from my journey.
I am lonely in this place.
As I kneel before your altar
(bloody knees and battered soul),
I can feel my spirit falter –
give me courage, make me whole.

Take this pain that has divided me –
drive it back into the night.
When your gentle hand has quieted me, I will feel my soul take flight.
I must know the night is over,
I must put my grief to rest –
hold me in your arms for cover,
lay my head upon your breast.

This hour, frozen in eternity –
my heart, shattered and alone –
your love, the ultimate maternity,
sears me to the bone…

Now the prayers have all been spoken, and my tears fade in the dust – in your hands, 
a life so broken,healed with love and 
faith and trust.

In your eyes I see Creation’s
ever-changing nebula –
in my heart I sing your glory,
Mahadevi, Shakti Ma…

7-8 December 1998
 

GRAIN AND CHAFF 
© 2000 Larry Looney

There are times in all of our lives when we need good friends to lean on, to give us hope and courage.  I wrote this song for 
my friend Jane, to thank her for being there, and to honor our friendship, which has become one of my greatest treasures.

As I sit before my window, viewing 
wonders there to see --like the dawn that chases darkness from the early morning 
sky -- how I marvel at the hand of God, 
that gifted you to me --your gentle eyes 
of friendship leave me shameless when I cry.

All the heartache that we suffer, passing through this world of men -- the cruel 
word, the poison laugh, the lover's scorn and more -- these have all become more bearable since I have called you friend -- I hold your love within me as I walk the 
stony shore.

Let us sift our lives with tender, loving hands -- a never-ending task, we take it strand by strand, every minute, every 
hour, every day we must hold the grain 
and blow the chaff away.

The evening is upon us, you can feel it in the air -- the wind within the trees will 
sing the setting of the sun and I know whatever pain you have my heart would gladly share, along with all your joys, until my final race is run.

Let us sift our lives with tender, loving hands -- a never-ending task, we take it strand by strand, every minute, every 
hour, every day we must hold the grain 
and blow the chaff away.

Let us sift our lives with tender, loving hands -- it's a never-ending task, I know, but if we take it strand by strand,every minute, every hour, every precious day,
we can hold the grain and blow the chaff away.

12 September 2000

(…for Jane, a friend of the finest kind.)
 

LYDIA'S SONG
© 1998 Larry Looney

This song came to me in a very cinematic form – I could actually see what was going on as it happened.  I first saw the face of 
a young girl – maybe 12 years old – sitting, staring out of an upstairs window 
in a wood-frame house, watching the rain fall at night.  As the first drops hit the window, before it became covered in 
water, they followed each other down the pane.  The view changed, I saw her 
father's footstep on the star, saw the doorknob turn, saw her body stiffen in anticipation of what (to her) was inevitable.  At the end of the song, when the image of the first verse is repeated, I could see the tears on her face, which had earlier been obscured by the rain on her window.  The image of her 'sailing away over the sea like a snowy gull' is about her detachment.  I tried to also instill some hope into her story – 'she will return one day, coming to ground with her memory full'…

Lydia watches the rain --
shimmering puddles in the dark --
droplets chase down the pane,
lightning flashes illume the park.

Hearing his foot on the stair,
Lydia waits for the knob to turn --
feeling his icy glare
killing her love -- let the anger burn.

Lydia's sailing away
over the sea, like a snowy gull --
she will return one day,coming to ground with her memory full.

Children run and play
every day under every sky --
listen to what they say,
take for a truth every tear they cry…

Lydia watches the rain --
shimmering puddles in the dark --
droplets chase down the pane,
lightning flashes illume the park.

Every night is the same --
raining dark or a moonlit sky --
Lydia shoulders the pain,
leaves us to wonder why.

Summer 1998
 

WHITTLE AWAY 
© 1998 Larry Looney

Another song for survivors – written for D, but, hopefully, encouraging to many. 

The original idea for the whittling image came from hearing the extremely talented songwriter David Massingill one night at 
the Cactus Café in Austin.  He told of an 
old master woodcarver he had met in the hills of (I think) West Virginia – this man had carved the beautiful mountain 
dulcimer that David was playing that evening.  He told David that the first thing he did when starting a new work was to hold the chosen piece of wood, running his hands over it, finding the soul hidden within it.  The notes that I made in the dark that night were almost illegible, but I knew I had to save that image…

Carving memories out of time --
feel the grain beneath your hands.
Dare to make the higher climb,
letting fall the iron bands.
Find the soul within the wood,
gently free it with the knife,
prune the evil from the good --
let yourself return to life.

Long and painful is the path
that has brought you to this place --
sacred fire, baptismal bath,
power shining from your face.
Journey toward the child within,
let her feel you reaching out.
let the others bear the sin,
let her shatter now the doubt.

Totems glare with angry eyes --
silent sing, unholy choir --
bring their power down to size,
give your demons to the pyre.
Breathe the smoke and feel the heat --
dying embers of your fears.
Blessed be our souls to meet,
sharing comfort, sharing tears.

Free the future, shed the past --
all that matters is the now.
Make the blessed living moment last 
smear the ash across your brow.
Feel the love within your heart,
let the holy spirit flow.
Give your hopes and dreams a start 
you are stronger than you know.

Whittle away the things that cause you pain, let the chips fall to the floor -- none of the cruel ghosts can crush your soul again.
Whittle away, open the door…

Summer 1998
(…for D)

Thanks to Colm at One in Four for letting me use White's wonderful poem!
White

"..dare the woman inside you 
to be forgiven for judging herself too harshly and for convicting herself of a 
crime she did not commit 

dare her to burn the blankets of her guilt and shame so that the warmth of dignity and self-acceptance 
may protect and cover her body 

dare her to leap beyond the quick sand of self-pity and to fight like hell to regain the property of her self-respect 

dare the woman inside you to stand up to her voices of self-defeat and to recapture her rights to be loved and appreciated and acknowledged 

dare her to redecorate the living room of her heart by first dismantling the enemies of hopelessness powerlessness and despair  then painting the walls 
with fresh dreams and fresh hope 
and words that say Yes I Can 

dare her to tear down the fences 
which keep life on the outside 
and her feelings on the inside 
for it is only where life and feelings are allowed to touch that hope and healing and emotional health 
can overcome the moods 
of discontent..." 

"A friend is someone who knows the song 
in your heart, and can sing it back when 
you have forgotten the words."

Author Unknown

"We all take different paths in life, but no matter where we go, we take a little of each other everywhere." 

Tim McGraw

"Strangers are just friends waiting to happen." 

A Conversation...

I asked God to take away my pain.
God said, no.
It is not for me to take away, but for you 
to give it up.

I asked God to make my handicapped 
child whole.
God said, no.
His spirit is whole, his body is only temporary.

I asked God to grant me patience.
God said, no.
Patience is a by-product of tribulations; it isn't granted, it is learned.

I asked God to give me happiness.
God said, no.
I give you blessings.  Happiness is up to you.

I asked God to spare me pain.
God said, no.
Suffering draws you part from wordly 
cares and brings you closer to me...

I asked God to make my spirit grow.
God said, no.
You must grow on yourown, but I will prune you to make you fruitful...

I asked God for all things that I might 
enjoy life.
God said, no.
I will give you life, so that you may enjoy 
all things.

I asked God to help me LOVE others, as much as he loves me.
God said...Ahhhh...finally, you have the idea. 
This day is yours - don't throw it away.

Keep Believing In Yourself
by Unknown

There may be days when you get up in the morning and things aren't the way you had hoped they would be. 

That's when you have to tell yourself that things will get better.

There are times when people
disappoint you and let you down, 
but those are the times when you must remind yourself to trust your own judgments and opinions, to keep your life focused on believing in yourself and all 
that you are capable of.

There will be challenges to face
and changes to make in your life,
and it is up to you to accept them. 

Constantly keep yourself headed
in the right direction for you.
It may not be easy at times,
but in those times of struggle you 
will find a stronger sense of who you are. 

So when the days come that are filled 
with frustration and unexpected responsibilities, remember to believe in yourself and all you want your life to be, because the challenges and changes
will only help you to find the goals that you know are meant to come true for you.

When you are inspired by some great purpose, some extraordinary project, all your thoughts break their bonds; your mind transcends limitations, your consciousness expands in every direction, and you find yourself in a new, great and wonderful world. Dormant forces, faculties and talents become alive, and you discover yourself to be a greater person by far than you ever dreamed yourself to be.

Patanjali

Friendship is a very beautiful gift to have, but unless a person is friends with himself, friends will be hard to find - yet harder to keep. 

Meighan Seigel

Hold me now. Hold me until I can't 
breath anymore and the only light left is the one in my dreams. Wrap your arms around me and never tell me who you are. Be a stranger who just cares like no one's ever cared before. Let me live a few hours without my emotions bleeding onto the floor and my mind wondering... thinking through the consequences of every action, everything I say and do.

Put me in an existence far from the sorrow of so many problems. Talk to 
me without a voice. Love me without lust. Kiss me without lips. Make love to me without a body. Whisper words I cannot speak. Tell me it's alright and then take me home.

Open my eyes to see the ones I love in 
a different way.

Take me back to when I was very young, to a time where there was hope and innocence. Where the world lay before me and whispered that all I had to do was go out and take it with both hands and make of it what I chose.

I AM AFRAID. I am small. I am a child pretending to be a woman. I put on my shield and go out the door and reasure myself that it is okay not to relate to people. I walk through your party looking at all the faces I care about and look on you as the flames burning across the 
land after the explosion.

I laugh, I dance but mostly I watch as if I'm on the other side of the window wanting so much to come in and join in and not care.

So hold me now for I hear the sea. I smell the salt air. I see the seagulls circling and flying away and it reminds me that I am alive and I am moving so far away.

I want to cry.

Take me away. Open my eyes to a new horizon. Let me see the light from within. Don't hurt me or shout at my frightened emotions. Make me feel complete. Let my breath turn into the sky... let the sea swallow me whole.

Rose
 

Everybody's Got a Story
Amanda Marshall

Ah la la la la la la la la
Oh...yeah
Huh

You walk up to me and say
Feel like I know you baby
And then take a sip of your cherry coke 
Now who drinks a cherry coke
Maybe you're nervous
I see that bead of sweat dancing on your cheek
Your words are like cheap champagne (Cheap champagne)
I get the point but it's much too sweet
I'm so tired of the dance
This carousel of superficial conversation
Gets me nowhere

So you can see my bra underneath my shirt
Watch the wind underneath my skirt
But that ain't the picture, it's just a part
Everybody's got a story that could break your heart
See my eyes, don't see what I see
Touch my tongue, don't know what 
tastes good to me
It's the human condition that keeps us apart
Everybody's got a story that could break your heart
Yeah, everybody's got a story that could break your heart
Na na na na na na na na na na

Now who can read the mind of the red-headed girl next door
Or the taxi driver who just dropped you off
Or the classmate that you ignore
Don't assume everything on the surface is what you see
Cause that classmate just lost her mother
And that taxi driver's got a PhD
I'm so tired of the fear
That weighs us down with wrong assumptions
Of broken hearts, a natural function

So you can see my bra underneath my shirt
Watch the wind underneath my skirt
But that ain't the picture, it's just a part
Everybody's got a story that could break your heart
Oh, see my eyes, don't see what I see
Touch my tongue, don't know what 
tastes good to me
It's the human condition that keeps us apart
And everybody's got a story that could break your heart
See my bra underneath my shirt
Watch the wind underneath my skirt
But that ain't the picture, it's just a part
Everybody's got a story that could break your heart

La la la la la la la la....

So dig deep
Deeper than the image that you see
Dig deep
Lift the veil and let your true self breathe
Dig deep
Show the world the beauty underneath...

See my bra underneath my shirt
Watch the wind underneath my skirt
But that ain't the picture, it's just a part
Everybody's got a story that could break your heart
See my eyes, don't see what I see
Touch my tongue, don't know what tastes good to me
It's the human condition that keeps us apart
And everybody's got a story that could break your heart
Oh, yeah

See my bra underneath my shirt
Watch the wind underneath my skirt
But that ain't the picture, it's just a part
Everybody's got a story that could break your heart
See my eyes, don't see what I see
Touch my tongue and don't know what tastes good to me
It's the human condition that keeps us apart
And everybody's got a story that could break your heart

That could break your heart, babe
Everybody's got a story
Oh, yeah
La la la la la la...
 

An Irish Blessing for Weddings
(I liked it - more for weddings but could be for friendship too)

May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon the fields.

May the light of friendship guide your paths together.
May the laughter of children grace the halls of your home.
May the joy of living for one another trip a smile from your lips,
A twinkle from your eye.

And when eternity beckons,
at the end of a life heaped high with love,
May the good Lord embrace you
with the arms that have nurtured you
the whole length of your joy-filled days.
May the gracious God hold you both
in the palm of His hands.

And, today, may the Spirit of Love
find a dwelling place in your hearts. Amen. 
 

From the Urban Legends Reference Pages
http://www.snopes2.com/

(Some true and not so true stories, great reads all of them - some scary, some hilarious - like the following):

Legend:   Calamity strikes at pianist Myron Kropp's recital in Bangkok 
Example:   [Phoenix Gazette, 1989] 

The recital last evening in the chamber music room of the Erawan Hotel by U.S. Pianist Myron Kropp, the first appearance of Mr. Kropp in Bangkok, can only be described by this reviewer and those who witnessed Mr. Kropp's performance as one of the most interesting experiences in a very long time. 

A hush fell over the room as Mr. Kropp appeared from the right of the stage, attired in black formal evening-wear with a small white poppy in his lapel. With sparse, sandy hair, a sallow complexion and a deceptively frail looking frame, the man who has re-popularized Johann Sebastian Bach approached the Baldwin Concert Grand, bowed to the audience and placed himself upon the stool. 

It might be appropriate to insert at this juncture that many pianists, including Mr. Kropp, prefer a bench, maintaining that on a screw-type stool, they sometimes find themselves turning sideways during a particularly expressive strain. There was a slight delay, in fact, as Mr Kropp left the stage briefly, apparently in search of a bench, but returned when informed that there was none.