mysterious | reverse threading

a morsel of the painting FOR PEACE, I PRAY

in this great mystery of the circle of life, i can think of no better prayer, no better mind-heart-talk, no better statement of living, than these words. there is no partisan leaning, no self-serving ask, no specific request of a higher being. just words to aid the step-step-step of life…words to accompany a walk on this good earth in wonder, in love, in light.

this great mystery, pointedly mysterious in moments high above canyons, on shores where waves crash upon the beach, in the hues of a new day stretching as far as you can see, in the million stars reaching further than you can imagine…a mystery of existence…the question why-am-i-here looking for an answer.

the answer of this great mystery? never one thing. the answer is found in hospital rooms and hands joined in hope, in gales of laughter shared with loved ones, the highest joy moments in one’s life, the lowest crushing moments in one’s life, holding a newborn baby, embracing a failing parent, hearing the voice of one’s grown child, walking side-by-side with another on a path, the about-faces and circular confusion on those paths, love at its best, love at its worst.

in every corner of the globe are people living this mystery. each of these people breathe in and breathe out in the same way. it is part of this great mystery that this breath is even possible. if we can breathe in light, in strength, in love, in peace, in wonder, as one family, we will have embraced the prayer. the mystery will continue to be.

FOR PEACE, I PRAY mixed media 50″x60″ (sold)

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

FOR PEACE, I PRAY ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood

“when one door closes another door opens.” how many times have you heard that? people fail to address the hallway in-between. ahh….that hallway in between. full of mystery. full of questions. full of wondering. full of not-knowing. it can be freeing; it can be torturous. bridging from now to next.

two to three months after my big brother died, my sweet momma continued to have nights when she could not sleep. she would rise from bed and go down the short hall to the bedroom that served as her office. in that short walk, she would pass the entrance to the living room. one night, as she passed the living room, glancing in she saw a depression in the very top of the recliner, the way it looks when someone is sitting with their head against the back of the chair. this chair…the very one that my brother sat in so many times in the last months of his life, close to the front door so that he didn’t have to go too far and become too tired.

my momma, not given to fanciful imaginings, decided to walk into the living room to find out why the headrest of this chair gave the appearance of someone in it. she came around to the front of the chair and found my brother. he was sleeping in the chair and did not stir while she stood there. she never said a word, just silently watched for a couple of minutes. her heart full, she quietly walked to her office. an hour or so later, when she was ready for bed, she walked back down the short hall, this time glancing in to the living room to see if the headrest was still shaped as it had been, if my brother was still there. the recliner had returned to its normal state. my brother was no longer there. she went to bed and slept, her time in the hall of grief a little lighter, a little less encumbered, a little less painful. mysterious, full of questions, full of wondering and not-knowing. freeing and a little torturous. but moving into next.

download the album AS IT IS on iTunes or CDBaby

read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: mysterious

this great mystery. [d.r. thursday]

bridge. [k.s. friday]

Share this:

Share this: