Sunday, June 12, 2022

All Through The Night, or A Sunday Kind of Love

 Thoughts flicker through my semi-sleeping mind during the night as I think of things to say here.  As if it were of some importance.  lol.  But I do think on it.  

One of the things I was talking with my grandson about a couple days ago were artifacts in language, which don't actually mean anything.  He is in a position in life where it is very important for me to communicate real meaning to him.  He thinks communism is some kind of answer.  So I fight on.

The used to say "What is the sound of one hand clapping", right?  

Then I would say "What is the sound of one duck quacking".  Because you can say all kinds of stuff, arrange words on a page, but there is no meaning there.  I pray to reflect meaning to him, and he does listen to me.


But then I am distracted by the impossible beauty.



at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

PBird's Most Visited Posts In The Past Year

  • O To Be A Boomer! Its The Friday Of Our Lives
    Its envy you know.   For we just may be a mythic race. Born into the soporific fifties, smug time of the world. We had the questions. The an...
  • In Acknowledgment Of Our Friend, Mawskrat
      "I'm just passing through." –Mawskrat ᪥ Let the dead bury their dead: but go thou and preach the kingdom of God.... No man, ...
  • A Word From Our Sponsor
      Our God intends that we be full of joy. I think that the principle of the mustard seed works here too. Bear with me for a minute, ok? I th...
  • HELLO KITTY POD STACK- A Short Story
           ( I was thinking a while ago what it would be like if our phones could, of their own volition, pipe up and speak to us. What if they ...
  • Contact!
                Since Roops said it was time to go, they went.           No more horsing around now.  They rode straight and fast out of town, o...
  • Took Shabbat Off, Taking A Breath
    🤍          Our friend Mr. Baby Sir is a top-level expert at taking it all in stride.  He has the essentials down. The cat knows when to tak...
  • I Think We Shall Have An Art Post!
      Alexander Max Koester (German, 1864-1932) Moulting DucksDate: ca. 1900 Medium: Oil on canvas Object Dimensions: 28 3/8 x 51 3/8 in. (72.07...
  • Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch
      I wondered how I had managed to get sick out here around only two other people and some animals. By evening I was fine.  Next morning I st...
  • Isn't It Just A Little Party Everyday?
      Happy New Year! 2024 WOW! Maybe not this much of a party though. Wheee! It's sure nice to wake up early, or almost still early and mee...
  • A Visitation One Morning
                 The bird’s tail switched back forth when she walked as if she were the re-embodiment of Mae West somehow. She was a show stoppe...