A father to the fatherless...Crazy enough to love me Teaser

A father to the fatherless

Psalms …“5A father of the fatherless and a judge for the widows, Is God in His holy habitation. 6God makes a home for the lonely; He leads out the prisoners into prosperity, Only the rebellious dwell in a parched land.…”

Words have the power to build and destroy....

 

Walking through the door taking my time to remove my coat  and putting my books down, while placing  poky down on the table  ( the class mascot my old teddy bear). Taking a deep breath  as always as the Scarecrow… taking the time slow down time  that mental place where you can create  and observe at the same time as Mr Gods had  original before humanity got and confused . They look at me with anticipation smiles and the gleam in their eyes only dreamer can possess in this era… I smile back  as  I look back at the hope of not sure future  the “class master Life” suttle way of remind me that even the hardest of  on surface ned alove hope and validation. (one last breath)

“What is our aim?”  .. .. This was my class my place of difference, a place of learning for all including and especially myself, sometimes in business of life  we forget we just students of life and every one of live is book unscripted theatre as my father used to call it, so let’s write  ... Class response (spoken word)

 “ We are not above or below anything or anyone , we are all born blank pages equal but only in Mr gods eyes, we are made in his image with his hands creative and creators  and as such we aspire to see life  and people through his eyes such as to be equal , we all come from humble beginnings  like the mighty oak tree we come  into this world as a  seed , we struggled through the dirt just to see the light but  to reach for the sky, our roots run deep in our pain and our victory… sipping in our potential  and here we are growing… standing tall  not without the scars of the times  we faced conquerors not victims dream chasers cloud walkers, look at me ! Any way you want to I have affronted the seasons flirted with death but never kissed her and changed,  the hot and the cold , I have shed my leaves as I have shed my tears , I have being pruned  and I have grown  , I have seen many of my own fallen by my side but life doesn’t know my true heart, but I am still here and still I rise, and like the fallen  at the end of the day , they have to acknowledge our existence because I do . 

 (Musically) What? .. say what?

Storm “I say free”

Shazif -  “When you have shackles on your wrists you learn to sleep with your hands together……..  If you are willing to die for what you believe in… Well (with a breath)... then often you do .. I / we will die ,  and die  you do even if you are not aware it, concepts of freedom  are derived  when my pen falls  free from my hand  as I sleep.