This is where I will be posting writing and bits and pieces of art related to one of my favorite themes…

something beautiful running across the wires.  a name, acknowledgement, miss you.  in the light the lines thread forward and back, running west from Chicago on out to the Pacific ocean.  Crossing cornfields and high plateaus, running quick and smooth over desert rock and red dirt trail.  I love them.  I love the lines moving out ahead, forward into my future, hopeful in the sunset, longing buzzing down the wire, veins of communication delivering life to hungry ears and hope to lonely hearts.  I just cannot stop staring at them.  Sometimes when I am in my car I have to pull over, mouth gaping, at their beauty.  I used to think they were man-made occlusions cluttering up the sky; somehow, I don’t know how or when, they were suddenly stunning to me.  Suddenly as awe inspiring as any natural wonder, or work of God’s hand.  I feel this way about two man-made forms, the other is the wind mill.  Those giant white monoliths atop grassy, green hills all over South Dakota, Montana, Idaho and more, with their arms reaching up and outward, pulling at the sky.  These too make me think of God, though I know they were invented, poured, and mounted by the minds and hands of men.  I wonder if it is something about the reaching.  Something about having to look up.  Some relation to the trees who stand in faithful worship, arms lifted for centuries.  I love to watch their blades spinning, twirling through the air; long smooth strokes slicing through a giant blue cake.

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