He Guides Me

Let Him speak, you have to let go.  
I was young, but now I am grown. 
Not always will we have to know  
The path that lines ahead or where  
We each will go next. On His throne   
He who numbers each strand of hair   
Has me safe in His hands and you  

Must understand He guides me too.   

Above the Water

When you are jumping up and down,
So excited for the next thing,
Then life hits you in face and you feel you are going to drown,
Don’t freak out, put your head above the water and sing. 

Look up above your fears, ignore the waters.
If you are focused on the crushing, rising swells
How will you see beyond to the One watching over all His daughters? 
Don’t miss His quiet whisper because of your own yells. 

When your focus is removed from the water and placed on the sky
Your head tilts up and a breath of air fills your lungs. 
Only then can calm consume the insecurity, causing it to die. 

Breathing in His presence, trusting in the moment, receive the peace that comes. 

Say Yes Ma'am

“Say yes ma’am.

Say yes ma’am.

Answer me, baby birds.

Use your words.”

“I can’t reach it.

I don’t want to sit.

I bit my lip.

Can I crush your hip?”

Tiny Hands

Tiny hands, free of cares, play joyfully.
Worries are not their’s and never would be ideally. 
But life is a journey we all most travel
And soon tiny hands will know more than soft dirt and gravel. 

Tiny hands grow a little more each day.
Slowly they begin to recognize what is coming their way.
Some tiny hands get pushed faster along the path than others.
Their journey, becomes difficult before their brothers’.

Tiny hands must learn how to be strong,
To keep on and leave behind what’s wrong. 
Struggles will be rough.
The traveler becomes tough. 

Tiny hands with work slowly harden.
Gone and forgotten are the days easy in the garden.  
Life now demanding,
Would he yet be standing?

Tiny hands no longer small and cheery.
Tiny hands now rough and weary.
Callused hands now carry on. 
Callused hands now conceal a yawn. 

Callused hands forget to fold,
Prayers are only for the young and the old. 
Love is being left behind. 
Unaware, he becomes blind. 

Tiny hands, new and free of cares,
Come to wipe away unnoticed tears. 
Slipping dearly into old callused hands,
Soft hands gently seek to understand. 

Tiny hands quietly leading,
Patch the heart that has been bleeding.
Folding together with callused hands,
Softly to aid the old who now stands,
And slowly begins to raise 
His own once more in praise. 

Heroes Come in Small Packages: May Quote Quest

The Prompt: "We're just kids, we aren't suppose to be heroes yet." 

The Rules Can be found Here.  If you want to join, go for it! 

“But we’re just kids, we aren’t suppose to be heroes yet. This is so confusing! Janet, what should we do?” Brandon’s 7 year old’s face held an expression that could only be described by the words ‘utterly and completely bewildered and concerned’ as he looked at his equally confused twin sister. 

“Yeah, but I think we can at least try to help, right?” The darling pixy girl with chestnut curls looked at her feet and then back at her brother. 

“Um sure, but doing what and how?” 

“Wait! I have a plan.” Janet’s eyes glimmered with a hit of sparkle.

“Is it a good one?” 

“I have a plan.” 

Brandon looked doubtful. 

“Come on, follow me.” Janet held out her hand to her brother and once he took hold, she whisked him away faster than one would have thought her short legs could have flown. Her bedroom door didn’t have a lock, but her closet did. Before he could say anything, Janet did an unexpected flip of her wrist which sent Brandon sprawling into the tiny space. “Stay here.” She ordered and turned the lock before the little boy, who was older than her by 32 seconds and didn’t take kindly to being told what to do, could finish a startled, “Huh?” 

But Janet didn’t go far before she turned around. Using her gymnastics skills she dropped and summersaulted back to the door. Laying on the carpet, she pushed her mouth to the crack between the floor and the door and whispered, “Brandon, there’s something you should know if I don’t come back.”

“What’s that?” He whispered back.

“I don’t have a key.” With that Janet sprang up again, attempted to do a cartwheel, and landed flat on her back outside her bedroom door. Disregarding the failed attempt at a superhero’s grand exit, she hopped up and ran off to complete her mission. 

THE END…of the Mind Game

Another month and still no reply. I texted her a year ago. I’m tired of the silence, tired of the emptiness inside, tired of waiting, tired of the nothingness of it all. 

“Ba-bing!” My phone made a sound, bringing me out of my stupor. 

“I DIED” it read. 

“You’re messaging me, someone you don’t even really know, who sent you a text a year ago saying ‘hey’, that you died?” I wrote back.

*Ping* “I DIED” came through again. “Seriously?” I thought, exasperated. 

“Fine, we’ll play it your way.” “I DIED” I wrote back. 

“Great! Where are you?” 

“Excusem moi?”

“I don’t speak Greek.” 

“That’s French (I think) and you obviously don’t speak that either. Where were we supposed to meet again?”

“Don’t you remember? The place we met the first time, in your mind.”

“Please shed some light as to where that was. My mind seems to have forgotten. That’s the funny thing about minds, they have a mind of their own.”

“In your mind. Duh.” 

“Yes, yes. But where in my mind?”

“Left side, slightly to the left center, and up three blocks.” 

“Blocks of what? Is this supposed to be a mind game?”

“Cement genius.”

“I am, thank you.”

“Sarcasm. Blonde.”

“But I don’t have blonde hair, I have black hair, and that’s the complete opposite of blonde. By the way, what house number is yours? I seem to be a bit lost in here. So crowded with heaps of thoughts, long-forgotten ideas, great comebacks made in the shower, and so one, and so forth.”

“First of all, blonde is not a hair color but rather a state of mind. Plus your black mane was dyed. I have no number. And yes, you have problems, I can tell you are a hoarder and the fact that all your come backs were made in the shower confirms that you live in the state of blonde because you couldn’t come up with the perfect words till hours later.”

“Fine then. Go ahead and act like that. I don’t mind. After all, if you only exist in my mind, then I have no need to listen to you. I’ll just block you out. My hair being dyed is no concern of yours. It was done professionally. Will you go out with me. I mean, somewhere besides my mind?”

“I DIED”

“Laughing over this conversation?”

“No. This is NOT FUNNY.”

“I DIED” I wrote. “And so, the tables are turned.” I thought. 

“HEY NOW DON’T START THAT AGAIN.”

“I DIED”

“GREAT!” 

“I DEID”

“GOT IT. GET TO THE POINT”

“I DIED”

“I DIED.”

“Just remember, you started this.”

“NOPE! I just checked, you are on the news, you just died.”

“Really!?!”

No answer. 

“Hello??”

NO answer.

“You died. It’s over. Your mind is gone.” 

“True. What else is new?”

“I DIED.”

“No… I died”

“WE BOTH DID, GENIUS.”

“I am, thank you. Do you have anything else you would like to add before I go?”

“Too late. You’re gone. Forever. If you reply, the world will end, or at least my world and I don’t think you want that because you asked me out and the only way to get me out is though your nose. Wouldn’t want to ruin the back of your head. Nor the front, for that matter.”

“Are you implying that you are my brain?” 

“That’s it. You did it. Game over.”

A huge explosion shook the apartment building. Ash and rubble filled the air. The wall collapsed, with Steve underneath it. The mind game was officially….OVER. 

It was a blast. The whole thing. Literally. 

The End (for real).

Almost. 

Okay, now it is. 

Will you please cut that out, I’m trying to end this jig...deal...thing.

THE END. 

Because I am a Blonde

“Hello?” Steve answered his iphone, which had been ringing incessantly for the past two seconds. 

“Hey!! Who is this? I have great news for you sir!” The excited, borderline chipmunk voice practically squealed on the other end. 

“Um, this is Steve.” Steve replied, holding his device 15cm away from his ear and cringing as he warily anticipated the response. 

“Steeeve!! We have your 5 kids ready for adoption, when do you except to swing by, sign the papers, and take the little dolls home?”

Steve grabbed the blonde hair on the top of his head, about yelling into the phone, “What in the world are you talking about? That is about as ridiculous as a milk refrigerator exit! Are you serious?” 

“Of course I am serious and what is this about a milk exit refrigerator?” The squeaky and still exuberant voice questioned. 

“Never mind the milk exit thingy. Um...why do I need to come pick up 5 kids?” Steve was beginning to hyperventilate. He never considered the fact that he could simply hang up and disregard the entire prank call. 

“If you want more information call this number and tell them to dump the kids at Murder Highway and Lifeless Drive in Midway Park.” 

The person on the other line rattled off another phone number, which Steve scrambled to scrawl down onto the back of an old gas receipt. Then they hung up abruptly, leaving Steve to make the call in a solid state of shock. 

As Mark was walking by it, the phone on the table began ringing. He jumped as if a gun had just been shot and was about to run for the exit positive that it was a smoke alarm. Then he shook himself realizing it was only a phone call coming through. No one was at the desk, so he quickly scooped up the old fashioned, touchscreen-less device and answered it. Before he could utter a word, Steve exploded on the other end. 

“Where are those kids?!?! Why do you need me to take them? For heavens sake, you picked the wrong guy to take a hand from! For all I care you can leave them at murder central and life killing park, or wherever your genius chipmunk ally said to dump them!” 

“I’m calling the police!” Mark cried, reeling backwards from the force of the shock wave which had just slammed him. He was sure that he had just stumbled across critical information and that the lives of those kids were now in his very capable hands. With his head covered in think blonde hair and full of great wisdom and knowledge far surpassing his 22 years, he was sure he that he would be their Batman and save them from inevitable murder and less life than they had now. 

On the other end Steve screamed something that Mark didn’t quite catch and then hung up. Or he could have fallen, Mark couldn’t tell, he was too focused on dialing 911. 

“Sir,” The dispatcher answered Mark’s call immediately. She was use to receiving calls every moment of the day. Nothing startled her. She was trained to stay calm and send help to the right locations. Checking the big screen in front of her to see where he was calling from she continued. “Sir, I see you are calling from Walmart. What is your emergency?”

“Some guy just called our store.” Mark blurted out. He was sweating buckets and breathing as hard as he would be if he tried to run as fast as a cheetah. 

“Sir, what is your name?” The woman asked in a steady voice. She was also trained to get people to calm down so they could share cohesive and hopefully helpful information. 

“Mark.” He gasped. 

“Mark, why did you answer the phone at Walmart? Do you work there?” 

Mark nodded. 

“Mark? I can’t hear you.” 

“I just nodded my head yes!” 

“Mark, I can’t see you.” 

“Oh, sorry.” Mark mumbled and then remembered why he was on the phone with 911. “You have to save some kids they are going to be murdered!!” 

“Mark, how do you know this?” The dispatcher asked in a patient tone, although at this point she was inwardly getting frustrated, normally by this time in a call she was actively involved in sending help, not still trying to figure out what was going on. 

“I already told you! Some guy called! Weren’t you listening?” Mark was not making any sense to her, although in his complicated and brilliant mind he of course had everything sorted. 

“Mark, I needed you to explain to me exactly what happened and why you need my help.” 

“Look, pay attention. Someone called and said to murder some kids in lifeless park.” Mark spoke very slowly trying to make the woman understand. It wasn’t working. 

“Yes, but this does not tell me anything, Mark. Lifeless park is not a real place.” 

“Yes it does! Obviously you guys have to save them!” 

“We can’t help anyone unless we know what you are talking about! Where are the kids? Who are the kids? Why do you have anything to do with any of this?” She couldn’t help it, she was getting frustrated. 

“I ALREADY TOLD YOU!” Mark was beginning to think he was going to have to save the kids himself. 

“All you have told me is that someone called your store and said something about kids. You haven’t told me anything that we as the police can go off of. How do we know you aren’t making this up?” The dispatcher answered, a touch of indignation in her voice. 

“Why don’t you just send a couple of your police minions over hear and let me talk to someone who will actually be able to help. Obviously you don’t get it.” Mark was done with the unhelpful woman who could not comprehend such a simple call for help. 

The woman got an idea. 

“Mark, stay right where you are. Don’t go anywhere.” Then she hung up. 

Mark Froze. 

After 10 minutes of hold the same position, the touchscreen-less phone still by his ear sounding the annoying dial tone, Mark finally heard sirens. A few moments later his manager and two husky policemen dashed into the back room where he was waiting not so patiently. 

“What took you so long? Can I put the phone down now?” Mark asked exasperatedly. 

“Mark, we got here as fast as we could and of course you can put the phone down.” The taller of the two officers answered moving his hand behind his back. 

“Would you like to tell us why you needed us to come help you?” The second prompted firmly. 

Mark slapped his forehead. 

“For heaven’s sake, I don’t need your help.” 

“MARK!!!” His manager exploded. 

“That’s it.” The shorter of the two police officers moved behind Mark and grasped his upper arms with an iron grip. At the same time the first whipped out the handcuffs he’d had his hand on. 

“Mark you are under arrest for pranking the police.”