he burst through the door with the enthusiasm
of any three year old.
"Grandpa, I'm home."
Thus Logan announced his arrival at the house.
He had spent Sunday with his mother on a
regular visitation and slept over his mom's
house that Sunday night.
He didn't go to school on Monday as I presume
his mom has that day off and he spent it with her.
He doesn't seem to be any worse from the wear
because of the absence of his mother and seems
to be taking her absence in stride.
Today is Tuesday and the weather in Florida is going
to be 84 so I kept Logan home from school today
and when his brother Kyle and his sister Gabby come
home at 2:30 we will go to Daytona Beach. and spend
about two hours there.
Kyle's friend Gavin will tag along as his mother and father
are going through a separation also and most of the time
you will find him at our house after school.
It seems to be a gone concluded fact that he is a tag along
in the events that we do.
I got the twenty books I ordered from Amazon and am busy
reading them. The majority of the books are devoted to
shadow work and the minority are devoted to the GMO
fiasco that has happened in this country.
One thing I learned is that Monsanto tried his GMO in Europe
but they sent him packing. He is outlawed. and his genetically
modified foods are nowhere to be found.
I've lost thirty pounds under a doctor's care using - and i get this confused
i thing it is called hdl growth hormone, a low dose, Vitamin B12 shots.
and following the Paleo diet on my own. which is cutting out grains. and
since I have gone organic i don't eat grains anymore.
I stopped taking my high blood pressure pills because it is now
to me within an acceptable range 120/80. sometimes it goes
to 107 and 110. and sometimes it hits 134.
I stopped taking statin drugs for high cholesterol because the last
time it was checked before I even went on this diet and lost 30 pounds
it was within normal range and I was still taking them. since i lost the weight
and watch what i eat. im sure it has gone down lower.
I'm not taking prozac anymore. and i kind of weaned myself off
that one. went from 20mg a day to ten mgs every day. and then
10mgs. every other day. then 10 mgs. every four days. and
eventually i stopped.
im not depressed. and i seem to be able to weep. something i
couldn't do in the past.
the only other thing i am having a hard time falling asleep -
so i am trying to find foods that have dopamine and seratonin
in them.
i have a smoothie before i go to bed at night and use organic tart
cherry juice in blending my protein mix to make it. anyway i am
still working on that.
found a replacement for pot on line called kratum which is legal
right now in this country - and if you are wondering why i bring
that up its because when i was looking for pain relievers on the
internet this popped up. so i ordered some and it is sitting in
my bedroom in the box that it came in. many people make it into a tea
and use it that way. anyway there is a whole debate raging on the
internet about this particular drug and its habit forming propensities
and whatnot - i have a wait and see attitude on that one. i want to
be completely off any shots before i make a judgement about the
tea.
oh, i also have a health coach which i have phone contact with twice
a month, but after the end of this month i am not going to use her
anymore.
the only reason im writing all this stuff and letting you know is because
so far i haven't written anything today.
Now, as far as the Shadow goes i've been working on the shadow since
i was seven. sooooo everyone knows the shadow is your ego, right?
well, me and my ego are friends and i guess you could say the same
for the shadow. so, where does that leave me. i dunno.
right now my shadow is johnny, because i find him aggravating, he
literally is my shadow in every sense of the word.
also, i don't think you can really come to a place of rest regarding
being humanly developed unless you take your body along with you.
body and mind and soul go along for the ride.
anyway that's what i think.
emily says you can only have enlightened moments - but i don't
need enlghtened moments - that's not what im about - i don't
even like the word enlightened - it sounds like u know something
everyone else doesn't know - and for me that is not what it is
about. - it just makes me me.
I think the poem i wrote when i was 20 about people wearing
masks said it then for me and says it for me now.
i just don't know what im going to do with it.
that is it. im done.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Thursday, February 27, 2014
A Day at the Beach
I don't have a regular formal writing hour and I
seem to be lost without it.
I'm sitting outside in the after shade of the cool
Florida sun. It's 3:30 and the heat of the day's
sun has dwindled and a cool breeze waifs through
the long pencilled fingers of the palm trees that line
this neighborhood's swidwalks.
I can hear the voices of my 7 and 8 year old grandchildren
as they chorus in unison with the other children on the block
as they play with their bikes, jump rope or just hang out in
groups scattered on the black macadam street.
John, my husband, needed to buy some type of Nutri-
Cal for the Yorkie, Murphy, so the dog will eat his dog food.
John is sitting opposite me rambling on about the dog. I catch
a word here and there as he laments about the fact there is
no Nutri-Cal. I try not to listen. I succeed. And John
finally leaves in the car in venture of his quest.
Hopefully he will find his way to the Pet Store and then
back home.
(For those of you who don't know John, he has memory
problems, so this is indeed a quest.)
This morning John and I went to Daytona Beach. It
cost us five dollars to gain access to the beach and then
the beach was ours. We parked our car not too far from
the entrance, popped open the trunk and dug out the green
and red beach chairs and proceeded to sit back and enjoy
the day's sun.
The rays were warm on my face and I put my head back and
listened to the music of the waves rolling in and hitting the beach.
The sounds, the breeze, the warmth of the sun stirred my
memories and brought me back to my pre-teen years.
My father used to come home from his day job and if it was
early enough he would pack my sister Helen and I into the
family car and we would head for Rockaway Beach. Helen and I
had great times there and we would swim and jump in the water
until my father would whistle for us to come out. Even if it was
crowded we would recognize his whistle anywhere.
Then we would head home and Helen and I usually fell asleep
in the back seat curled up and leaning against each other.
On the weekends my mother, father and Helen and I would head
for the beach early Saturday morning. It had to be six o'clcok
in the morning because we needed to find a parking spot and on
Saturday every car in Queens was pointed in the direction of
Rockaway Beach. The race was on.
We got to the parking spot on 98th street early, parked the car,
and with cooler, the old beach umbrella, towels, and blanket in hand
we found the perfect spot on the beach. We laid out our blanket,
set the umbrella for the best shade and hurriedly put a shoe on the four
corners of the blanket to ensure that the blanket
wouldn't blow away. Then we would put our towel, shorts and blouse on
the designated part of the blanket that was our own individual spot for the day.
My sister and I couldn't wait to get to the water and with an all right,
okay from my mom we were off. With squeals of delight we would
race to the water's edge, hesitate one moment, test the water with our
toes and and then we'd start running into the water and splash each other,
We would then hold hands, scamper haphazardly over the waves and
then finally laughing, giggling and out of breath jump over the waves.
Helen was 5, I was 6. Helen was 6, I was 7. Helen was 7, I was 8..
And so our journey to the beach continued.
My mom would make hard boiled eggs and balogney sandwiches with
mustard and we would buy a cool drink from the beach vendor. On
days when my father had extra money my sister and I were treated to an
ice cream.
My sister and I were always famished and the hard boiled eggs tasted
soooo good. On more than one occasion I got sand on my egg or
sand in my balogney sandwich and I would feel that horrible crunch
in my mouth that I didn't like. I would look at my mother for help but
all she did was shake her head. The look she gave me told me that I
had to deal with the sand on my own.
People would start to leave the beach but we thought we had the best
parents ever. We stayed. The lifeguards went home. We stayed.
Then my sister and I would climb up the lifeguard's chair and wrap
ourselves in sweaters, long towels, anything to keep warm and we
would just sit there and listen to the sound of the waves and look out
at the stretching waters dancing on the horizon. We stayed that way
for a while.
I remember my mother and father used to sit on the blanket. My mother
would have herself propped up on her elbows, her long legs out in front
of her. Her face and eyes lost in thought looking out towards the water. My father
would be sitting up straight, his right knee would be bent and his hands
would be clasped around it. His other leg would be straight in front of
him.
I remember them sitting there, not talking but listening and watching the
waves. Once in a while my father would bend his head towards my
mother and I could see them whispering.
So, that brings me back to the moment of today when John and I were
at the beach sitting in the sun listening to the beat of the surf and feeling
the soft stirring of a breeze on our faces.
It invoked in me a memory, a memory held within the boundary of sounds
and whispers and stirrings of beach days long ago.
seem to be lost without it.
I'm sitting outside in the after shade of the cool
Florida sun. It's 3:30 and the heat of the day's
sun has dwindled and a cool breeze waifs through
the long pencilled fingers of the palm trees that line
this neighborhood's swidwalks.
I can hear the voices of my 7 and 8 year old grandchildren
as they chorus in unison with the other children on the block
as they play with their bikes, jump rope or just hang out in
groups scattered on the black macadam street.
John, my husband, needed to buy some type of Nutri-
Cal for the Yorkie, Murphy, so the dog will eat his dog food.
John is sitting opposite me rambling on about the dog. I catch
a word here and there as he laments about the fact there is
no Nutri-Cal. I try not to listen. I succeed. And John
finally leaves in the car in venture of his quest.
Hopefully he will find his way to the Pet Store and then
back home.
(For those of you who don't know John, he has memory
problems, so this is indeed a quest.)
This morning John and I went to Daytona Beach. It
cost us five dollars to gain access to the beach and then
the beach was ours. We parked our car not too far from
the entrance, popped open the trunk and dug out the green
and red beach chairs and proceeded to sit back and enjoy
the day's sun.
The rays were warm on my face and I put my head back and
listened to the music of the waves rolling in and hitting the beach.
The sounds, the breeze, the warmth of the sun stirred my
memories and brought me back to my pre-teen years.
My father used to come home from his day job and if it was
early enough he would pack my sister Helen and I into the
family car and we would head for Rockaway Beach. Helen and I
had great times there and we would swim and jump in the water
until my father would whistle for us to come out. Even if it was
crowded we would recognize his whistle anywhere.
Then we would head home and Helen and I usually fell asleep
in the back seat curled up and leaning against each other.
On the weekends my mother, father and Helen and I would head
for the beach early Saturday morning. It had to be six o'clcok
in the morning because we needed to find a parking spot and on
Saturday every car in Queens was pointed in the direction of
Rockaway Beach. The race was on.
We got to the parking spot on 98th street early, parked the car,
and with cooler, the old beach umbrella, towels, and blanket in hand
we found the perfect spot on the beach. We laid out our blanket,
set the umbrella for the best shade and hurriedly put a shoe on the four
corners of the blanket to ensure that the blanket
wouldn't blow away. Then we would put our towel, shorts and blouse on
the designated part of the blanket that was our own individual spot for the day.
My sister and I couldn't wait to get to the water and with an all right,
okay from my mom we were off. With squeals of delight we would
race to the water's edge, hesitate one moment, test the water with our
toes and and then we'd start running into the water and splash each other,
We would then hold hands, scamper haphazardly over the waves and
then finally laughing, giggling and out of breath jump over the waves.
Helen was 5, I was 6. Helen was 6, I was 7. Helen was 7, I was 8..
And so our journey to the beach continued.
My mom would make hard boiled eggs and balogney sandwiches with
mustard and we would buy a cool drink from the beach vendor. On
days when my father had extra money my sister and I were treated to an
ice cream.
My sister and I were always famished and the hard boiled eggs tasted
soooo good. On more than one occasion I got sand on my egg or
sand in my balogney sandwich and I would feel that horrible crunch
in my mouth that I didn't like. I would look at my mother for help but
all she did was shake her head. The look she gave me told me that I
had to deal with the sand on my own.
People would start to leave the beach but we thought we had the best
parents ever. We stayed. The lifeguards went home. We stayed.
Then my sister and I would climb up the lifeguard's chair and wrap
ourselves in sweaters, long towels, anything to keep warm and we
would just sit there and listen to the sound of the waves and look out
at the stretching waters dancing on the horizon. We stayed that way
for a while.
I remember my mother and father used to sit on the blanket. My mother
would have herself propped up on her elbows, her long legs out in front
of her. Her face and eyes lost in thought looking out towards the water. My father
would be sitting up straight, his right knee would be bent and his hands
would be clasped around it. His other leg would be straight in front of
him.
I remember them sitting there, not talking but listening and watching the
waves. Once in a while my father would bend his head towards my
mother and I could see them whispering.
So, that brings me back to the moment of today when John and I were
at the beach sitting in the sun listening to the beat of the surf and feeling
the soft stirring of a breeze on our faces.
It invoked in me a memory, a memory held within the boundary of sounds
and whispers and stirrings of beach days long ago.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
august 1961
each man is his own
yet no man walks alone
for in the silence of a soul
there is a presence
sometimes forgotten and unknown.
------------------
o little white rose
what part in god's plan has thee
silently your petals unfold
each a new mystery.
your place is there amidst the thorns
a light to those that flock to thee.
-------------------
time is fleeting
moments to be remembered or lost
as a robin when he sings in flight
soaring, soaring in delight
or a child's reflection in a lake
mirrored there the reflection of one's own thought
yes, you and I, each one of us have a timeless eternity
whereby smiles, laughter, or a tiling of the head
can recall memories that are either a treasure or a loss.
--------------------------------
What do people's faces tell thee
O' Little One
What is there - can you see beneath the veil -
or maybe a fleeting glance, a momentary glimmer
Loneliness, suffering, joy all these the face express
how many stop to look
how many are satisfied with the veil -
who do not bother to brush it aside.
just one look, one glance - can communicate the
heart's desire.
yes, there are many faces
some of which are masked
just waiting, waiting for the lingering look of another.
-------------------------------
THE END.
each man is his own
yet no man walks alone
for in the silence of a soul
there is a presence
sometimes forgotten and unknown.
------------------
o little white rose
what part in god's plan has thee
silently your petals unfold
each a new mystery.
your place is there amidst the thorns
a light to those that flock to thee.
-------------------
time is fleeting
moments to be remembered or lost
as a robin when he sings in flight
soaring, soaring in delight
or a child's reflection in a lake
mirrored there the reflection of one's own thought
yes, you and I, each one of us have a timeless eternity
whereby smiles, laughter, or a tiling of the head
can recall memories that are either a treasure or a loss.
--------------------------------
What do people's faces tell thee
O' Little One
What is there - can you see beneath the veil -
or maybe a fleeting glance, a momentary glimmer
Loneliness, suffering, joy all these the face express
how many stop to look
how many are satisfied with the veil -
who do not bother to brush it aside.
just one look, one glance - can communicate the
heart's desire.
yes, there are many faces
some of which are masked
just waiting, waiting for the lingering look of another.
-------------------------------
THE END.
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
shadow
being mean
keeping quiet so not to say mean things.
being not included
so keeping to myself, being different,
developing my own code.
talking when supposed to be quiet.
saying the wrong thing - so feelings of
disjointedness, out of place,
being punished because talking.
watching what i say.
when a child - cunning - lied. gave me
a present when it was for my sister.
tried to be better - tried to always tell the truth.
didn't like to study in grammar school
liked to play -
tried to be perfect in my love for god.
in my writing not good enough, not creative enough -
so didn't attempt to write or be creative.
because it wouldn't be good enough.
when i was a kid - i invited myself to a birthday party
when i wasn't invited.
didn't go placed where i wasn't invited.
i used to like to run
i wasn't the fastest runner
so i didn't run anymore or if i did
i resented not being the fastest.
danced on the stage, but said i was fooling around
so i didn't get a good part.
i seemed to get into trouble for fooling around.
did i fool around less - i don't know.
i never won, or was first in anything so i didn't
really try scholastically to excel.
except in 7th grade i studied and got in the 90's average.
now with writing i may not be first
so do i give it up. i don't know.
court reporting machine i just practiced until
i got speeds high enough so i could pass the
test and get the job.
i don't know if i don't try to achieve because i won't be first
or get the top prize.
being mean
keeping quiet so not to say mean things.
being not included
so keeping to myself, being different,
developing my own code.
talking when supposed to be quiet.
saying the wrong thing - so feelings of
disjointedness, out of place,
being punished because talking.
watching what i say.
when a child - cunning - lied. gave me
a present when it was for my sister.
tried to be better - tried to always tell the truth.
didn't like to study in grammar school
liked to play -
tried to be perfect in my love for god.
in my writing not good enough, not creative enough -
so didn't attempt to write or be creative.
because it wouldn't be good enough.
when i was a kid - i invited myself to a birthday party
when i wasn't invited.
didn't go placed where i wasn't invited.
i used to like to run
i wasn't the fastest runner
so i didn't run anymore or if i did
i resented not being the fastest.
danced on the stage, but said i was fooling around
so i didn't get a good part.
i seemed to get into trouble for fooling around.
did i fool around less - i don't know.
i never won, or was first in anything so i didn't
really try scholastically to excel.
except in 7th grade i studied and got in the 90's average.
now with writing i may not be first
so do i give it up. i don't know.
court reporting machine i just practiced until
i got speeds high enough so i could pass the
test and get the job.
i don't know if i don't try to achieve because i won't be first
or get the top prize.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
The Tree
I stood in the forest and knew
the strength of my limbs.
I stood in the forest and felt
the heat of the sun.
I stood in the forest and saw the
flight of the eagle overhead.
I stood in the forest and heard the
cicadas sing.
I stood in the forest when morning melted
into evening.
I stood in the forest grounded in moments of reverence and
awe.
I stood in the forest as a family of three, man, woman and son
rested under me..
I stood in the forest and heard them whispering -- The Tree.
Soft voices, laughter, murmurings
and conversations I did hear.
A family of three took refreshment from me. .
The boy played a game of hide and seek
and at times rested his head on me.
The mother - her being I felt at one with me.
The father smiled approvingly.
Time passed.
Days and evenings became many.
Months became years.
I stood in the forest growing strong.
Until that terrible day I was cut down
and a cross I was made.
Lifted high up on the hill for all to see.
The mother knew at once it was me.
Ah familiar tree, she murmured.
And I felt her being was one with me.
And the father again his approval was with me.
And then - rough men positioned him on to me.
I draped her son tightly to me.
A tighter embrace there could not be.
The woman's child closed his eyes as if to play hide and seek.
Old memories stirred of the peace and strength of - The Tree..
Welcome, old friend, He murmured to me.
the strength of my limbs.
I stood in the forest and felt
the heat of the sun.
I stood in the forest and saw the
flight of the eagle overhead.
I stood in the forest and heard the
cicadas sing.
I stood in the forest when morning melted
into evening.
I stood in the forest grounded in moments of reverence and
awe.
I stood in the forest as a family of three, man, woman and son
rested under me..
I stood in the forest and heard them whispering -- The Tree.
Soft voices, laughter, murmurings
and conversations I did hear.
A family of three took refreshment from me. .
The boy played a game of hide and seek
and at times rested his head on me.
The mother - her being I felt at one with me.
The father smiled approvingly.
Time passed.
Days and evenings became many.
Months became years.
I stood in the forest growing strong.
Until that terrible day I was cut down
and a cross I was made.
Lifted high up on the hill for all to see.
The mother knew at once it was me.
Ah familiar tree, she murmured.
And I felt her being was one with me.
And the father again his approval was with me.
And then - rough men positioned him on to me.
I draped her son tightly to me.
A tighter embrace there could not be.
The woman's child closed his eyes as if to play hide and seek.
Old memories stirred of the peace and strength of - The Tree..
Welcome, old friend, He murmured to me.
Psalm 7 - Prayer and Praise for Deliverance from Enemies
The Psalmist Prays:
O Lord my God, in You I put my trust,
Save me from all those who persecute
me;
And deliver me,
Lest they tear me like a lion,
Rending me in pieces, while there is none
to deliver.
Psalmist Doris Prays:
O Lord my God, in Your hand I place mine,
Save me from thoughts of pride and grandeur;
And protect me,
Lest my thoughts overtake me like the running cougar,
And pounce on my bones, while there is none
to protect me.
The Psalmist Prays:
O Lord my God, if I have done this,
If there is iniquity in my hands,
If I have repaid evil to him who was at
peace with me,
Or have plundered my enemy without
cause,
Let the enemy pursue me and overtake
me;
Yes, let him trample my life to the
earth,
And lay my honor in the dust.
Psalmist Doris Prays:
O Lord my God, if I have allowed this,
If there is evil in my heart,
If I have struck him who bore no
harm towards me,
Or have plundered the families of the
innocent;
Let those who I have struck the first blow
find me;
Yes, let him see me in the distance,
And trample my honor in the earth.
The Psalmist Prays:
Arise, O Lord, in Your anger;
Lift Yourself up because of the rage of my
enemies;
Rise up for me to the judgment You have
commanded!
So the congregation of the peoples shall
surround You;
For their sakes, therefore, return on high.
The Lord shall judge the peoples;
Judge me O Lord, according to my
righteousness,
And according to my integrity within me.
Psalmist Doris Prays:
Arise, O Lord in Your anger;
Show yourself, because of the hostility of my
enemies;
Assert yourself for me according to the ordinances
You have laid down!
So the multitudes of the citizens shall mull around
You:
For their welfares, therefore, bestow kindness.
The Lord will be eye to eye.
See me O Lord, according to my
righteousness,
And according to my honor within me.
The Psalmist Prays:
Oh, let the wickedness of the wicked
come to an end.
But establish the just,
For the righteous God tests the hearts and
minds.
My defense is of God.
Who saves the upright in heart.
Psalmist Doris Prays:
Oh, let useless thought perish.
But let the Lord come through,
For the ever faithful God stirs the hearts and
minds.
My shield is of God.
Who protects the vigilant.
The Psalmist Prays:
God is a just judge.
And God is angry with the wicked every
day.
If he does not turn back,
He will sharpen His sword;
He bends His bow and makes it ready.
He also prepares for Himself instruments
of death;
He makes His arrows into fiery shafts.
Psalmist Doris Prays:
God Lord is my judge.
And God's anger is on the wicked every
moment.
If he does not halt,
He will prepare His armor;
He sharpens His sword and practices.
He also stores up instruments of death;
He makes his blade to shine in the light.
The Psalmist Prays:
Behold , the wicked brings forth
iniquity;
Yet he conceives trouble and brings forth
falsehood.
He made a pit and dug it out,
And has fallen into the ditch which he
made.
His trouble shall return upon his own
head.
And his violent dealing shall come down
on this own crown.
Psalmist Doris Prays:
Behold, the evil one brings forth
plans;
Yet he plots gossips and brings forward
untruths.
He made a hole and carved it out,
And falls into the pit which he made.
His plans shall come knocking on his
own door.
And his viciousness shall come down
on his own household.
The Psalmist Prays:
I will praise the Lord according to His
righteousness.
And will sing praise to the name of the
Lord Most HIgh.
Psalmist Doris Prays:
I will utter praises and shower the Lord
with adulations.
And this lowly creature will bow before you
always.
You are the food of my soul, the love of my life.
Thine will be done for ever and ever.
A M E N.
O Lord my God, in You I put my trust,
Save me from all those who persecute
me;
And deliver me,
Lest they tear me like a lion,
Rending me in pieces, while there is none
to deliver.
Psalmist Doris Prays:
O Lord my God, in Your hand I place mine,
Save me from thoughts of pride and grandeur;
And protect me,
Lest my thoughts overtake me like the running cougar,
And pounce on my bones, while there is none
to protect me.
The Psalmist Prays:
O Lord my God, if I have done this,
If there is iniquity in my hands,
If I have repaid evil to him who was at
peace with me,
Or have plundered my enemy without
cause,
Let the enemy pursue me and overtake
me;
Yes, let him trample my life to the
earth,
And lay my honor in the dust.
Psalmist Doris Prays:
O Lord my God, if I have allowed this,
If there is evil in my heart,
If I have struck him who bore no
harm towards me,
Or have plundered the families of the
innocent;
Let those who I have struck the first blow
find me;
Yes, let him see me in the distance,
And trample my honor in the earth.
The Psalmist Prays:
Arise, O Lord, in Your anger;
Lift Yourself up because of the rage of my
enemies;
Rise up for me to the judgment You have
commanded!
So the congregation of the peoples shall
surround You;
For their sakes, therefore, return on high.
The Lord shall judge the peoples;
Judge me O Lord, according to my
righteousness,
And according to my integrity within me.
Psalmist Doris Prays:
Arise, O Lord in Your anger;
Show yourself, because of the hostility of my
enemies;
Assert yourself for me according to the ordinances
You have laid down!
So the multitudes of the citizens shall mull around
You:
For their welfares, therefore, bestow kindness.
The Lord will be eye to eye.
See me O Lord, according to my
righteousness,
And according to my honor within me.
The Psalmist Prays:
Oh, let the wickedness of the wicked
come to an end.
But establish the just,
For the righteous God tests the hearts and
minds.
My defense is of God.
Who saves the upright in heart.
Psalmist Doris Prays:
Oh, let useless thought perish.
But let the Lord come through,
For the ever faithful God stirs the hearts and
minds.
My shield is of God.
Who protects the vigilant.
The Psalmist Prays:
God is a just judge.
And God is angry with the wicked every
day.
If he does not turn back,
He will sharpen His sword;
He bends His bow and makes it ready.
He also prepares for Himself instruments
of death;
He makes His arrows into fiery shafts.
Psalmist Doris Prays:
God Lord is my judge.
And God's anger is on the wicked every
moment.
If he does not halt,
He will prepare His armor;
He sharpens His sword and practices.
He also stores up instruments of death;
He makes his blade to shine in the light.
The Psalmist Prays:
Behold , the wicked brings forth
iniquity;
Yet he conceives trouble and brings forth
falsehood.
He made a pit and dug it out,
And has fallen into the ditch which he
made.
His trouble shall return upon his own
head.
And his violent dealing shall come down
on this own crown.
Psalmist Doris Prays:
Behold, the evil one brings forth
plans;
Yet he plots gossips and brings forward
untruths.
He made a hole and carved it out,
And falls into the pit which he made.
His plans shall come knocking on his
own door.
And his viciousness shall come down
on his own household.
The Psalmist Prays:
I will praise the Lord according to His
righteousness.
And will sing praise to the name of the
Lord Most HIgh.
Psalmist Doris Prays:
I will utter praises and shower the Lord
with adulations.
And this lowly creature will bow before you
always.
You are the food of my soul, the love of my life.
Thine will be done for ever and ever.
A M E N.
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