Friday, August 29, 2014

There Is A Time For Everything 

A time to cook, a time to clean
A time to sit, a time to lean
A time for playing with the dog
A time to sleep like a forest's log
A time to read that newest book
A time to sweep in every nook
A time to hear, a time to talk
A time for slow mountainous walk
A time for joy in each sunrise
A time for tears - no prying eyes
A time to stare up at the stars
A time to heal from all the scars
A time to question everything
A time to accept what life brings
A time to spew out all those words
A time for those thoughts to be heard
A time to sew, a time to craft
A time to rewrite that first draft
A time to cuddle and hold hands
A time alone, this I demand
A time of worship and of praise
A time of prayer throughout each day
A time to reflect and review
A time to wipe the slate anew
A time to regret and release
A time to forgive and have peace
A time to dream, a time to dance
A time for recovery, perchance
A time for each season of life
A time to let go of all strife
A time to grasp each day with glee
A time to savor all I see

For I am not promised another day
No, I'm not promised another day...

copyright Linda Whitehead Humbert 8/29/2014

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Snippets For Today

It has been months since I left the last poem on this blog.  I guess that at the time I began posting, I didn't realize that I'd bitten off more than I could chew.  I have always had a difficult time balancing every aspect of my life, and it's sort of been an "all or nothing" thing with me.  I had to back away until I got some perspective and more understanding about exactly what I want in life.  Not that I've had a great "ah-ha" experience, but I do have a little more insight.  You would think that a 50+ year old would have it together, but I have learned that being grounded is something that even some 70 year-olds are still struggling with.

Although I've shared verses with you in the past, I've not told you much about who I am.  Starting today, and with each new post, I will begin telling you a little about myself and sharing more poems as I feel led.

Even though I remember playing either alone or with my friends, I mostly remember having my nose stuck in one book or another.  As a child of the 60's with death and war splattered across the TV screen and newspapers, Civil Rights marches and political assassinations, the Manson family made the biggest impact.  I read and watched everything that I could about them (and yes, I was reading newspapers and magazines at a pretty young age), almost to the point of obsession, okay - I was obsessed.  From these senseless murders, my fascination with serial killers and all things evil began.

I was a voracious reader (I still am at times when health permits, but that's for another blog).  I read biographies, history, all sorts of fiction (no erotica and I'm not really that fond of sci-fi) and non-fiction, but my lifelong quest of trying to understand evil had begun before the age of ten.  Because of this, I've probably read more books on crime and  psychology than any other genre. I have come to the conclusion that no matter how much I read, how many well made documentaries that I watch, I will never fully understand it. I believe that there's a capacity for evil inside each of us, and we all have a choice.  I realize that that's a somewhat simplistic view, but that is what it boils down to -