Tempest onoculus

“Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death" says David in Psalms 23. I imagine David wrote this while on the run from Saul, a man who would have taken his life and a man whose life he wouldn’t take out of respect for his crown. One bent in destruction, one guided by righteousness.  I heard a preacher preach once about David and he said that when David’s mighty men were asked what David was like. They would assume he was bold, brave, charismatic. The mighty men's response would be that he cries a lot.  The bible describes Saul, however, as having an evil spirit of the lord come over him. This condition was most commonly brought on in the presence of David. I imagine Sigmund Freud would say that Saul’s Desire for life was broken giving way to a death drive that was fixed in jealousy toward David which would lead him to his death spiritually long before his life was gone. God had moved away from him in favor of David, and left there in his abandon his mind unrav

Lo the sun, in my sight line, rising above the meridian yellow and gold, bright and warm searing.  Lo the sun, behold the light, above and below engulfing. Round and around trolling and plowing in the earth and changing.  Lo the sun, disc of fire, in wake of learing shadow, passing over and beyond, up above from below and gone.

In Lloyd Chandler's folk song “conversations with death" later made popular by various artists and most popular by blue grass recording artist Ralph Stanley, death is once again given depiction entitatively as a spiritual being born of Appalachian bible belt southern folklore.  “ I’ll fix your feet till you can’t walk” says death to its unfortunate victim in the song. I’ve heard it said of the old timers how people talked about their legs going cold giving them indication that they were were dying. This feeling of icy cold associated with the touch of a spirit whose one purpose in existence is to rend spirit from flesh, knowing no barter other than the coin passed or prayer spoken for mercy in itself becomes the spirit if mercy in distant whispers that quiet pain with cold numbness. This spirit calls the soul away locking bone and muscle in place like a door forced closed till there is nowhere to go but out. These days, however, outside of sudden tragedy, we die differently, f

I once had a dream where I dreamt that everyone loved something and, I loved the moon. In my dream I perceived it as a woman both elegant and round, filled with blessings , bright and silver shining on me in what comfort would feel like upon my soul. It washed over me, this light filled with love and blessings returned for favor like a mother’s smile to her child when that child has evoked her grace. In Kabbalah and much Jewish folklore, the Shekinah is represented by the moon. She is the supernal mother birthing her blessings on the people when she is full and watching over them in the night. Without doubt, I am fond of the moon. When I see it in the sky and feel it’s light wash over me it’s like the very presence of God touching my soul. Salutation Pending Johnny R Draper