A bone to the dog is not charity. Charity is the bone shared with the dog, when you are just as hungry as the dog.
Jack London
Listen to my words, I am silent.
Listen to my words, I am silent.
No sound. No meaning.
Look at my face, I am invisible.
Just an emptiness above my neck.
Dust covers the empty womb of the world,
All is not clean.
Beauty is not obscene,
One hatred cannot defeat another.
Trust to the love that is innate.
We are born with a kindness in our souls,
And each of us dies alone.
You have a life, and you will have a death.
What will you do with your soul
In the time that is left to you?
Use well the days.
Use well the days.
jobe
Most people work just hard enough not to get fired and get paid just enough money not to quit.
George Carlin
True, I may appear
unkempt like a rotting tree,
jetsam or flotsam,
but on the right occasion
this old heart can still blossom.
The Monk Kengei, circa 875 CE
The bite of winter. Outside, the poor are huddled in doorways.
Some are trying to be invisible. Broken teeth and cold feet.
Empty stomachs where the hardest of the angels hide.
Prayers in their heads. The street is a war that no one wins,
A grief with a screaming voice. The street is a hammer.
Cold rain, cold wind. The bite of winter.
You pass by and some of them look up at you.
Some look away.
jobe
The sky that knows your name.
You have walked this road far too many times,
troubled by life, death, and dreams. All three.
Some, the most stubborn, walk here, and others
are dragged by arrogant horses. Call it a choice.
It's not a choice, but let's call it that anyway.
The road knows your footsteps, the sky
knows your gaze. Maybe a god knows your heart.
Maybe not. Who can truly know another?
Honesty is required for that. And communication.
We don't really know if a god knows us,
or cares. A god might walk a far different road
and keep far different cares. Humans
might be even more arrogant than the horses,
assuming that a god is tuned into our pitiful lives.
What do you know? What the other humans wrote,
and called holy? Keep walking. Call it a choice.
It's not a choice, but let's call it that anyway.
One foot in front of the other. Left, then right.
You have walked this road far too many times,
troubled by life, death, and dreams. All three.
Yes, the deep sky sees your endless gaze.
Or then again, maybe it doesn't. Who cares?
Friend, I am not here to cheer you up.
jobe
To note, going forward I will post the book of jobe twice weekly, Fridays and Tuesdays. The posts will have both free content and content for paid subscribers.
jobe
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