Looking back, at now and forward . . .

091229 14:34
Life for me draws near its close. Looking back, at now and forward, I wonder why I write. I was told for most of my life I was, ‘too stupid to get in out of the rain’, and well I remember begging my mother for permission to write. She finally said, “you don’t need my permission.” That gift was near the very last days of her life.
Our relationship continues; where she once hurled me nude from her home, I now carry her adored in my arms to God & Heaven. My mercy & forgiveness granted.
At that time I was conscious of a savage rage against her imprecations/maledictions.
Her behaviors were worse. And dear old dad said nothing but watched, indifferent, in silence, mute. Abandonment and rejection were my lot in life.
Throughout my life nightmares were few, far apart, and now seen as gifts, as I do my being taught to stand and, not take it, but deliver love far better than I received.
I define my life now as magnificent and rich beyond counting. Suffocated with values I would share explicitly with those of us who were broken beneath the wheel and drown in sorrows.
The description has no prescription. I am confident since I spoke it too often to be surprised its repetition from those I speak with seeking alternatives, through addictions, perversions and pleasures inimical to themselves and all life in others.
I write because I love doing it. It is an active form of prayer discovered in my silent plea for mother to love herself while destroying me. As the age of majority arrived, my violence less well hidden, the beatings stopped but the pain and depression continued until too recently for full understanding and acceptance.
If I speak of, and to, God as friend then I obviously find no Religion or Government adequate the dialog. Communication can be communion with Love sustained. I am not Jesus, or the Anti-Christ, merely a soul who longs, upon the evidence of lives I touch, to heal them yet filled with brokenness the power to miraculously do so. Where Jesus had a bruised reed scepter mine was, long ago, dissolved in tears, not reed, but water.
I am a river stone unbroken, polished smooth, by eons of time speaking before language.
I see this kernel in everyone regardless of all qualifications wealth, poverty, creed or color. Knowing that their protests against others as their projections of fear and guilt. I am saved and know that all can be so; if only they, or we together, take the first step forward to inhabit now and seek a future in love accepting all our faceted diversities, time forgiven/forgotten.