One of my employees shared this with me this morning. Thought it was worth sharing.

Cell Phone vs. Bible
Ever wonder what would happen if we treated our Bible like we treat our cell phone?

What if we carried it around in our purse or pocket?
What if we flipped through it several times a day?
What if we turned back to get it if we forgot it?
What if we used it to receive messages from the text?
What if we treated it like we couldn’t live without it?
What if we gave it to our kids as a gift?
What if we used it when we traveled?
What if we used it in case of emergency?
This is something to make you go….hmmm….where is my Bible?

Oh, and one more thing.
Unlike our cell phone, we don’t have to worry about our Bible being disconnected, because Jesus already paid the bill! And there are no dropped calls!

Makes you stop and think “where are my priorities”?

I Open the Door

I open the door.
I open the door.
I open the door, now let me in. //

I want to hold you.
I want to love you.
I want to walk with you and be your friend.
Just want to hold you
because I love you;
Want to walk with you and be your friend.

I open the door no man can shut.
I shut the door, no man can open.
I am the only Way, the Truth, the Light
And you can do nothing without me.

I open the door.
I open the door.
I open the door, now let me in. //

My Father, God so loved the world
That He gave Me, His only Son.
That whosoever would believe in Me
Would not perish, but would have eternal life.

Behold, I stand at the door and knock.
Behold I stand at your door and knock
If any man hears my voice and answers,

and if you hear and you will answer
I shall enter in and abide with him (and he in me)

I will enter in and abide in you (and you in me)
He will be known as an overcomer.

You will be known as an overcomer

I open the door.
I open the door.
I open the door, now let me in. //

I want to hold you.
I want to love you.
I want to walk with you and be your friend.
Just want to hold you
because I love you;
Want to walk with you and be your friend.
[Rev. 3:7-8/ Isa. 22:22/ John 15:5/ John 14:6 /Rev. 3:20-21 /John 3:16 /John 15:4]

daleach 110709 TFH

"Ain't It Funny, How Time Slips Away"

Where did October go? Thirty-one days, plus an extra hour, thanks to the governmental "time-saving device", DST, and somehow, I still missed it! (But then when was the government really any good at saving anything?) Any way, nine months I manage to blog something, but now October slips by without a captured thought...or even time for the slightest titilation. Ah, but time flies, they say. Still, I'm slightly undone. Had I made resolutions at New Year, this would have been the last one that I would have broken and the last time I resolved. After all, when was there ever more time to do it right than right now? So re-solving really seems such a waste of time.

Nonetheless, "Like the sands in the hour glass, so are the days of our lives", so having amassed beach loads of sand, and possibly, a few grains of maturity, I take time now to reflect on time, while there is apparently still time left for reflection. Some talk of killing time, but how can you kill time when you can't see it, don't know where it lives, and couldn't catch it if you did? Time is fleeting, you know and I never have been. (They timed me with a sundial.)

No, I prefer to learn from time (to time). Of course, that might not be too bright either. You see, a wiser man than I once said, "Time is a great teacher, but unfortunately it kills all its pupils." How true! How true! Speaking of brilliant, Einstein supposedly opined that "the only reason for time is so that everything doesnt happen at once". I suppose it's all relative though.

Speaking of relatives, my great Uncle Harry Hackenberg (he of the one unruly eyebrow fame) liked to say "Time was...!" Every sentence began, "Time was" and the story commenced from there. It was a little like, once upon a time, but those weren't some fairy tales Harry was tellin'. No, those were true life stories about the good times and the hard times. And then, there was my Grandma Woody who was a seamstress. She told me that time was a dressmaker specializing in alterations.

I've noticed, the older I get, the faster time flies! And I've developed a theory. Let me set the scene. Do you remember how slowly time passed when you were a kid? Especially in a car, and school (except for recess)...and church, oh my god! As a teenager, when you weren't having fun and being with your friends, you were always bored and time went on forever. But eventually, time began to change for you. When did you first think, there's just not enough time?...before a big exam or term paper?...or when you were with your first love and it was the time you were supposed to have her home. Well, the times they are a changin' and they keep on changing us. Until, somewhere along the way, you realize that there are entire years that you hope you'll never be cross-examined over, because you couldn't give a decent alibi.

Here's the theory. As a child, there are only a few years one has to measure against. If I have lived ten years and I compare one year to that, it's ten percent; twenty, five percent; thirty, three percent; forty, 2.5 percent; fifty, 2 percent; sixty, 1.6 percent. ( I stop with sixty because it's not my time to be calculating any further. All in due time, my friend!) Now, if I asked you to give me ten percent of your money, I bet you think I'd lost my mind completely. (Most folks wonder how even God can ask for that much!) But if I asked for 1.6 percent, you might think about it...for a second, maybe. Anyway, as one passes through time, one accumulates so many many more of everything...memories, wins and losses...friends and enemies...hopes and dreams...disappointments and disillusionments...just all kinds of stuff! And by the time you factor in even a portion of all that stuff, you end up asking, "Time. Time. Time. What's become of you?"

To date, I have been alloted 21,784 days; that's 522,816 hours; which in turn is 31,368,960 minutes; and seconds approach the number of the current national debt. Staggering numbers, don't you agree? I know I'm staggering! Having logged that much time, I think to myself, self, is it any wonder that you sometimes lose track of time and misplace an October here and there, now and then? Just relax, you're doing just fine!

Ah, I feel a whole lot better now, having gotten that off my chest! Hope you're feelin' better too! Nothin' like some time well spent!

daleach 1109

Time, the cradle of hope.... Wisdom walks before it, opportunity with it, and repentance behind it: he that has made it his friend will have little to fear from his enemies, but he that has made it his enemy will have little to hope from his friends. ~Charles Caleb Colton

Invitation

I believe love lasts forever
Though lovers seldom do
And I believe that part of me is me
And part is you
Though there’ve been times when I was sure
I’d never love again
Somehow things they turn full circle
And even losers win

Once I believed for each of us
There was a single special one
Though lately I’d be hard-pressed to say
Just where that notion’s from
‘Cause I met so many so right for me
And yet somehow so wrong
That I learned to take my love in bits and pieces
As I went along

So won’t you love me for the moment
Love me for the day
And I’ll love you all I can
Until it’s time to go away
I don’t claim to be the answer
To your fondest fantasy
I just want to be a part of you
Won’t you be a part of me

Yes, I believe love lasts forever
Now don’t you really too
And I believe that part of me is me
And part is you
Though there were times when I was sure
I’d never love again
Somehow things have turned full circle
And even losers win

So won’t you love me for the moment
Love me for a day
And I’ll love you all I can
Until we go our separate ways

I don’t claim to be the answer
To your fondest fantasy
I just want to be a part of you
Won’t you be a part of me

Yeh' I just want to be a part of you
won't you be a part of me

daleach ‘81

Truth for us is not a system of thought. Truth is not created. Truth is. Christ is the truth. Truth is a person. Truth is not limited within our comprehension of it. Truth transcends us; we can never come to a full comprehension of Truth.

The search for Truth is the search for Christ…

Truth is the Mystery of the person of Christ; and because it is a person, the Mystery is inseparably linked with the event: the event of the encounter. Mystery and event are one…

The Mystery, for the Orthodox mind, is precise and austere reality. It is Christ, and it is to meet Christ.

Mother Maria of Normanby

LISTEN

Why can't we just sit down and listen
and see another man's point of view?
It's such a simple act of love to do...
you listen to me...I'll listen to you.

Why don't we learn to trust each other?
Just reach out and take a hold.
There's no sense in use being so cold...
If we'll only trust, life will never get old.

Why won't we share our hopes and dreams,
and make this world a better place?
Living as brothers, the whole human race...
anything less is just a waste.

Why don't we just sit down and listen
and see the other man's point of view?
It's such a simple act of love to do...
you listen to me, I'll listen to you.
You listen to me; I listen to you!

daleach '74

The Power of Silence

Life's lessons are taught in varied classrooms and by sundry teachers so vast in variety as to defy categorization. One might conjure an image of a mystic guru in lotus position sitting atop a Himalayan summit dispensing wisdom; while another pictures a favorite coach instructing in the fundamentals of a particular skill set; and still another might see Jesus bending the minds of His listeners as He delivered the Sermon on the Mount. Suffice it to say that there are nearly as many potential laboratories and teachers as there are lessons to learn!

One of the first and most memorable/influential lessons that I learned featured my parents in a team-teaching effort that was delivered in the confines of our family car, with two of my sisters and myself as the educatees. Though unannounced, the lesson of the day was "The Power of Silence" with my mother as the lead instructor on this occassion.

My dad loved sports. He was quite an athlete in his day, followed whatever game was in season, and passed those traits on to his seven children. Like I said, he loved them all, but baseball was something special for him. I can't tell you why, or that I ever recall him putting that in words, but it was apparent to me, at least, that baseball was special. He relished a game of catch where he could bedevil you with his unorthodox submarine delivery and "burn leather" with his still potent "stuff".

About once a month, the family (however many were around at the time) would make the 80-mile drive to visit my grandmother and spend part of a day with her. At one time, the family car seated nine, but by this time the crowd had dwindled to five, as I recall. My dad, mom, and I in the front seat and two sisters in the back. Having had made one such visit, as the day waned, we headed out of the small town where Grandma lived.

Leaving Lincoln that night, the lights at the city ballpark announced a game and beckoned any apple-pie American guy to come out to the old ballgame...and my dad answered, "YES!" Discretion being the better part of valor (though admittedly not one of my father's stronger points), he proffered a magnanimous, "Hey, let's just stop and see how the game's going!" His enthusiastic invitation was met with the one word cutoff, a barely audible, but no less definite, motherly reply, "NO!" Ah, but dad was persistent and this was a baseball game, so he cajoled, "Ah come on! The kids will love it and we'll only stay a little bit, I promise." Again, "No!" the one-word reply. Two down now...no runs, no hits, a couple of errors , but the Mighty Casey had not laid down his bat!

As we drew almost even with the park, Casey (er, Dad) gave one last wild swing at convincing mom, but alas(strike three and a beauty!), mom countered with uncharacteristically verbose, "No! We need to get home!" That's all she wrote! That's the old ballgame folks! We were headed home. No ifs, ands, or...but wait, not so fast now! Dad must have missed the signal because he turned into the parking lot and it seemed we would be stopping after all (or was that in spite of all?). Whichever! I remember thinking, even at the tender age of ten that that was a pretty bold move that old dad had made in that moment of who wears the pants! (Only time and experience would later introduce "foolhardy" into my burgeoning vocabulary.)

So we're rolling to a stop and the atmosphere has become very heavy...there's definitely tension in the air...it seems we are teetering on the precipice of something significant, but no one can be sure how it's going to fall. The consensus hovers that it probably won't be pretty, we're just not sure of how it will come down. Still, I'm thinking, if we could just get out of the car and into some little lighter air, maybe the storm would pass; the mood could shift; and bloodshed might be avoided! And what I'm thinking, I'm guessing dad is fervently praying at that very same moment.

All of that to bring us back to life's lessons and teachers. A good teacher will often use visual aids to grab a student's attention or bring a point home. Skillfully weaving ideas, characters, and facts together in a intricate tapestry of learning, she draws the young mind into her work of educational art. Years of experience allow her to spontaneously incorporate even outside events and stimuli into the fabric of her work.

Our old car, so heavy laden with drama and negative vibes, had not yet arrived at a full stop when the aforementioned outside events and stimuli presented a spherical visual aid of the foul ball variety and literally deposited it right in front of our lead teacher's face. What a cosmic convergence of educational opportunity it was. And even as the innumerable fingers of broken safety glass spiderwebbed out from that wayward baseball, my mother, ever the ready teacher, seized that moment of truth and delivered the point of the lesson. She did not orate; she did not pontficate; in fact, she never said a word! No, she just slowly turned toward my dad and gave him a very meaningful look! Nothing more. The sheer economy of that movement in tandem with the utter clarity of her message came together in perfect synergy in that moment of educational nirvana.

We didn't stay for the game that night. In fact the car never did come to a stop. We were gone almost before we had even arrived. And it was a very quiet ride home. No one talked. I don't even remember the radio being played. The only sound I recall was the monotonous droning of tires against the pavement. I don't know for sure what anyone else thought about that night, but I pondered the Power of Silence. I wondered at how my mother had taught and brought home such a powerful lesson without the aid of even one word. Now, some fifty years later, that lesson remains.

GRIZ

FAITH AND SOCIAL JUSTICE

http://www.pbs.org/moyers/journal/07032009/watch.html

Program: Bill Moyers
Episode: The Journal: Faith & Social Justice
Bill Moyers speaks with Cornel West, Serene Jones, and Gary Dorrien for a fresh take on what our core ethics and values as a society say about America's politics, policy, and the challenges of balancing capitalism and democracy.

I am not prone to recommend television programs, but this particular episode is an exception, and exceptional. I ran across it on the internet and was totally blown away by the intellects, insights, and interplay of ideas from guests Cornel West, Serene Jones, and Gary Dorrien.

The Telling Place

Bless us Lord, this day, with vision.

May this place be a sacred place,

a telling place,

where heaven and earth meet.

(Celtic prayer of blessing)

Under The Pall

The pall had just alit
When the attack began;
Temperature rising sharply;
Oxygen all but sucked from the air;
Cramps knotting back, then shoulders;
Accusing and mocking voices joining the fray:
Taunting and mocking…mocking and taunting;
“Imposter! Fake! Charlatan!” they cried!
I lay besieged by an adamant onslaught of degradation and humiliation
Amid a cacophony of sounds, senses, and sentiments in utter darkness.

Overwhelmed…and undermanned,
I struggled to respond, stuttered for an answer;
But found no words nor voice to offer in reply.
Speechless, defenseless, disarmed, and exposed
Darkness pressed in tight around me…
Death rapping at the door.
“Who do you think you’re foolin’?” the accuser asks me,
“And what are you doin’ here on the floor?”
“Get up and get out now while you still got some pride
And before you go embarrass yourself more!”

But somewhere against that dark dissonant din
A spark pierced the blackness as a prayer recited from my heart:
“All powerful Holy Spirit come down on me and subdue me;
Bathe me with the brilliance of your light like dew!”
“All powerful Holy Spirit come down on me and subdue me;
Bathe me with the brilliance of your light like dew!”
Repeated, entreated, the Spirit does come;
The Light banishes all darkness and this battle is won.
His Presence and Peace are palpable.
The pall is lifted.

daleach ‘09

Connect-the-Dots

Sometimes I feel so dis - connected

A series of u n r e l a t e d thoughts

T h o u g h t s that have no numbers

In a game of connect-the-dots

daleach

Mother Love

All love comes from the Father;

the greatest through His Son...

and it abides in the Spirit

in each who'll bid Him, "Come!".

And He's granted us a preview

of what we can find above...

blessings of home and happiness

wrapped in the arms of Mother Love!

daleach'88

Happy Mother's Day!

little man

a little man

very small indeed

a white and balding pate has he

with rosy cheeks on milk-white skin

rising above a dimpled chin

and wire-rimmed specs on a bulbous nose

so big and red, you'd swear it glows

and mischievous eyes, all crystal blue

and big, bushy eyebrows; big ones, it's true

they're salt-pepper gray and wild as weed

no doubt of some exotic eyebrow breed

and all of his arms and all of his legs

are strong and round, but short like short pegs

but that doesn't slow the little man's pace

as up and down the aisles he'll race

searching first here and then over there

constantly searching, always aware

and the little man knows the place high and low

he knows of its wonders, he knows of its woes

he's seen me triumphant atop mountain peaks

he's seen me cowering, afraid and so weak

he sees me outside, he sees me in

he suffers the losses, he savors the wins

a little man, yes, that's what i said

a wee small lad that runs 'round in my head

and gives me the "facts" from "a down through z"

get to know the little man

and you'll get to know me

daleach 79

Epitaph

He is not gone, my Friend

He's only moved along

Travelled on to parts unknown

Heard that Highway Song

And those of us that knew him

Know that that's a natural thing

For he always loved to travel

Loved the adventure unknowns bring

For he was born a restless heart

And restless he remains

Bound to wander and chase the stars

Now unfettered by senseless games

And though he'll never come home again

I know he'll often pass this way

To visit us and touch our hearts

To give us pause, and say

Somewhere's where we've been before

Here is where we are

And nowhere's where we're headed Friend

When we're afraid to chase the stars

daleach'85

HIGHWAY SONG

On a hot prairie night

there was nothing in sight

as far as the eye could see

'Cept sagebrush and sky

nighthawks dartin' by

our old dog Smokey and me

The wind whistled and whined

through the telephone lines

and sang out so mournful and long

And now for thirty-odd years

through good times and tears

I've heard that Highway Song

I'm a drifter

driftin' from town to town

from time to time

Lightin' but never landin' for long

'cause my feet get itchy

and I hear that Highway Song again

And it's not that there's always some place to go

or not somewhere I'd rather just stay

it's more, it's a fever

and it gets in your blood

it's the price that a drifter must pay

Love 'em and leave 'em

I know that's how it seems

but I never planned it that way

Each time I fell in love

I was out to win her love

and my only thoughts were to stay

But somewhere along the line

there'd always come a time

when it had come time to go

And I couldn't tell you why

I ever said goodbye

to some of the lovers I've known

I'm a drifter

driftin' from town to town

from time to time

Lightin' but never landin' for long

'cause my feet get itchy

and I hear that Highway song again

And it's not that there's always some place to go

or not somewhere I'd rather just stay

it's more, it's a fever and it gets in your blood

it's the price that a drifter must pay

It's a blessing and it's a curse

it's the best and it's the worst

it's everything and it's nothing at all

It's freedom and it's jail

it's heaven and it's hell

once you answer that Highway Song's call

'Cause there's just one thing that's sure

and that's that there ain't no cure

once the fever begins to spread

It seems I just start to settle down

or a new lover will come around

and I'll hear that song in my head

I'm a drifter

driftin' from town to town

from time to time

Lightin' but never landin' for long

'cause my feet get itchy

and I hear that Highway song again

And it's not that there's always some place to go

or not somewhere I'd rather just stay

it's more, it's a fever and it gets in your blood

it's the price that a drifter must pay

It's more, it's a fever and it gets in your blood

it's the price that a drifter must pay

daleach

Another Ditty

So pretty on the outside

Yet so ugly there within

They say that beauty runs skin deep

But with you, it's paper thin!

daleach

YOU NEVER KNOW ABOUT THE ROAD

In Grandpa's old gray Plymouth, one yesterday,

he took me riding in a country day.

He says,"This looks like a good shortcut!",

but then we drive thirty mile of ruts,

and he says, "I guess you never know about the road."

He just sighed and said,

"Son, you never know about the road!"

But that never even crossed my mind,

back in the summer of sixty-nine,

when I took to the road to find my fame,

and I found it's just a game fools play

while they're lost out on some road.

Or there in summer of nineteen seventy-three,

when I fell in love, and you know, she fell for me.

And it looked like it might just all work out,

but then she's gone, and I'm inside-out.

No, you never know about the road.

And it never even crossed my mind,

when I took to the road back in nineteen sixty-nine,

that I drift so long, or so far away.

or that home could become

just any place I'd stay,

but I guess you never know about the road.

And that's what Grandpa said,

"Son, you never know about the road!"

daleach

Dancing with God*

When I meditated on the word GUIDANCE,

I was drawn to "dance" at the end of the word.

I reflected upon how doing God's will is a lot like dancing.

When two people try to lead, nothing feels right.

The movement doesn't flow with the music,

and everything is quite uncomfortable and jerky.

When one person realizes this and lets the other lead,

both bodies begin to flow with the music.

One gives gentle cues, perhaps with a nudge to the back

or by pressing lightly in one direction or another.

It's as if two become one body, moving beautifully.

The dance takes surrender, willingness,

and attentiveness from one person

and gentle guidance and skill from the other.

My eyes drew back to the word GUIDANCE.

When I saw "G," I thought of God,

followed by "u" and "i."

"God, "u", and "i" dance."

God, you, and I dance.

This statement is what guidance means to me.

As I lowered my head, I became willing to trust

that I would get guidance about my life.

Once again, I became willing to let God lead.

My prayer for you today is that God's blessings

and mercies be upon you and your family on this day and everyday.

May you abide in Him as He abides in you.

Dance together with God, trusting Him to lead

and to guide you through each season of your life.
I Hope You Dance!

Life is Precious - "Give God Thanks For It"

* An email a dear friend shared with me that I thought you might like to see.

__________________________________________________________________

Dance with Me*

Dance with me, O lover of my soul

To the song of all songs

Romance me, O lover of my soul

To the song of all songs

Behold He has come

over the hills upon the mountains

To me You have run,

my Beloved,

You have captured my heart

Dance with me, O lover of my soul

To the song of all songs

Romance me, O lover of my soul

To the song of all songs

With You I will go,

You are my love,

my fair One

The winter has passed

And springtime has come!

Dance with me, O lover of my soul

To the song of all songs

Romance me, O lover of my soul

To the song of all songs

Chris Dupre

* "Coincidentally" our praise band did this song for the services this past weekend.

_______________________________________________________________________

AT BAT

Better three strikes than no balls!

IMAGES

We're never all we appear to be...

Or as much as we'd like to think...

The image held forth for all to see

Sometimes vanishes in a wink.

daleach

SAVE YOURSELF

SAVE YOURSELF*

And silence overtook us

Carried each his chosen way

As we rolled across the desert

Headed home, the eighth of May.

Six men altogether, yet six men all alone

With weary muscles, frazzled nerves,

And hearts now sick for home.

Four days on the river;

Four days of Owyhee's Hell;

Four endless days of nature's worst

Tested each and all so well.

The rain was never-ceasing,

Save, when it snowed or hailed.

The cold our constant companion

And misery prevailed.

The water was a torrent; an angry churning mass,

And we were as a frightened child

Attending our first school class.

The teacher and the barber,

The student and the guide,

The kid and me, and the river,

And not a place to hide.

The odds were stacked against us;

The chances good we'd fail;

And our prayers fell on stone-deaf ears

To save us from that hell.

And so in silent desperation

Each man searched his soul and well

For courage and resolution

That might his deepest fears dispel.

And lo, from somewhere deep inside

A voice cried out to me,

"Save Yourself! Or you shall die...

Save yourself or cease to be!"

Now that's the first rule of the river

And much more clearly now I see...

It's the first rule of life worth living...

SAVE YOURSELF or cease to be!

daleach'82

*Given enough opportunities, most every river adventurer will find him/herself out of the boat and in the midst of a rapid. This is when/where "Save Yourself" (which is the first rule of the river) comes into play. What that means is that you don't wait for someone else to come save you, you do what you can to save yourself. The boatman (in the boat you have exited) is resposible for that boat and the safety of its "resident" passengers first. It will do no one any good if he imperils them in an attempt to rescue you. He will get to you as soon as it is safely possible. In the meantime, you should (1) face downriver; (2) draw your knees to your chest to protect vital organs and fend of rocks, limbs, or other obstacles with your feet; (3) time you breaths to correspond to the water you are in; and (4) work your way to shore or an eddy as soon as the opportunity presents itself.

On another level, having shared this poem with some of my fellow believers, a handful have taken exception to the title, as if I am somehow insinuating that by my own effort I can replace the work of Jesus in saving myself. That is not the case at all. ONLY Jesus Saves! I do believe that He has paid the price in full - done all that is necessary - for "whosoever will receive" to be saved. In other words, He's done all that He can. But until, an individual recognizes the peril and does what only he/she can do (save yourself) - receiving what God has offered - then Christ's work is in vain.

Enter The Cathedral

enter the cathedral

enter the cathedral

come here full of praise

pause, reflect, refresh now

from long and tiresome days

when your mind is weary

and your spirit low

enter the cathedral

leave your world of woes

feel the healing touch
of a cool and soothing breeze
as it flows across a meadow
and dances through the trees


hear the creek rushing onward
in a torrent to the sea
listen, it sings so sweetly
its effervescent melody


smell the sweet lingering fragrance
of countless wildflowers in bloom
or the sweet-sick scent of sugar pine
beneath a tracker's moon


see majestic snow-capped mountains
rising up above the plain
at the crest of the world, they sit on high
upon that throne they reign


taste the days of endless wandering
where cares are left behind
savor the moments and the memories
like the aftertaste of fine wine

enter the cathedral

come here full of praise

pause, reflect, refresh now

from long and tiresome days

when your mind is weary

and your spirit low

enter the cathedral

leave your world of woes

daleach '80

Live From Daryl's House

Check it Out! I ran across this website several months ago and have become a regular viewer. It's a great concept; basically it's a "house concert" with Daryl and newer invited artist(s) broadcast across the internet. The guests' music spans a wide range of genres, and is of consistently high quality; the band is extremely talented; and Daryl Hall exhibits his unique vocals/harmonies and surprising instrumental musicianship.

Each month (the 15th) a new show is broadcast and an archive of all the previous shows is available on the website. Generally, the set list consists of equal parts of the guest artist's songs and Hall & Oates songs. All in all, it's a great mix of talents that make for some very enjoyable entertainment!


Go to http://www.livefromdarylshouse.com/, I think you may like it too!

Why Geese Fly Further Than Eagles

Cruising north on Burmac Road

Great day to be riding

Lazy Sunday afternoon

Nearly mid-winter

Yet unseasonably warm

(For now at least)

And now is what matters now

The sky is clear

The air is crisp and clean

And the horizon vision's boundary

I don't know what's behind me

And don't much care

But as I look west

And then to the north

The sky is full of geese

Tens of thousands of geese

In hundreds of free-flowing formations

As far as my eye can see

Flocks so huge that they darken the sky

Even at what I perceive to be ten miles

And I am in awe and speechless

A stunned spectator in a choice box seat

Unticketed gate-crasher

Digging the show

At the premiere event of the day

There are days I wonder, "Why Kansas?"

This is not one of those days.

For today flatlands open endless skies

Full of flawless flying formations

Far out!

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Now, do yourself a favor and go to www.flightpathcoaching.com/NewFeb2006/WhyGeese.pdf

and read "Why Geeses Fly Further Than Eagles" by Bob Stromberg. One of my favorite pieces that I come back to regularly. You know that I came home and looked it up again on this day... to be sure! Enjoy life and all that's in it! Griz

Traveling Near the Speed of Light

Traveling near the speed of light
Is life at a different pace.
And we, mere huddling molecules
Are lost in halls of space.
Cast adrift in timeless seas,
A world so time-consumed
Cannot overestimate
The importance we've assumed.
Oh man, thou fair and chosen one
To have dominion over all
Traveling near the speed of light
You look a trifle small.
And if you have the answers,
Just how tough can the questions be?
Speak to me, oh little man
From your rowboat lost at sea.
Speak to me of destiny,
Of good and truth, and right...
Speak, but no one hears you,
Traveling near the speed of light.
For you are but a tiny voice
Amidst the teeming throng,
That from some small corner of the universe
Lifts its muted song.
Anf if, by grim determination,
You should end this human race,
Rest assured that Cosmos will continue at its chosen pace.
And despite your high opinion
Of your importance to the flow...
Traveling near the speed of light,
Only God will see you go.

daleach