Native American Ancestors – Battles and Beliefs…#180

1.Wandering-desert Women
Acrylics on Canvas – By Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree

 

Native American Ancestors – Battles and Beliefs

I had made the statement that “The Americans stole the land from the Native Americans, just as the Native Americans stole the land from those before them”. The current question is “Who did the Native Americans steal land from”? Only each other!

Native Americans were stealing land from one another, and killing one another long before others sailed to what is today known as America. Taking land by conquest was a part of Native American culture. Creek Indians conquered land from Choctaws and Chickasaws and other Creeks. Comanche’s came in and took the land from the Apaches by war, as so on.   The Cheyenne and Comanche took a lot of land away from other Indians when they got the horse. The Blackfeet, Nez Pierce, and Crow continually fought over the same land in Idaho and Wyoming. American Indians both stole, and had land stolen. The Apache stole every “thing” from everybody.

Columbus thought he was in India because of how similar the Natives appearance to the Persians, thus history tells us that Columbus discovered America. However, America is named after Amerigo Vespucci, the Italian explorer who set forth the then revolutionary concept that the lands that Christopher Columbus sailed to in 1492 were part of a separate continent. A map created in 1507  was the first to depict this new continent with the name “America,” a Latinized version of “Amerigo.”

My ancestors were Chickasaw in Southeast America, living between the Atlantic, the Gulf of Mexico. In the area of the Mississippi River. They inherited the Mississippian culture period that lasted from AD 700- 1600. The natives of the regions spoke a number of different languages that included Choctaw, Chickasaw, Apalachee, Creek, Seminole, and Alabama.

The Natives of the Southeast both grew food and were hunter-gathers. The main items of their diets included cornbread, grits, tomatoes, sweet potatoes, and corn. They were able to catch rabbits, hogs, turkey, raccoons and deer. The religious beliefs of the Native Americans of the Southeast were similar to the rest of the Native Americans. They believed in Animism, the belief that objects, places and creatures all possess a distinct spiritual essence. Potentially, animism perceives all things—animals, plants, rocks, rivers, weather systems, human handiwork and perhaps even words—as animated and alive.

We as humans would have done well to continue keeping Animism in all religions, with this belief, we would have respected everything and each other, creating a better America.

However, this is just my opinion!

 

EAJM

 

Authors Books at Amazon.com and Barns&Nobel.com

 

https://www.amazon.com/Flying-Broken-Wings-Charlotte-Murphree/dp/1547051329/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1586107137&sr=8-1

 

https://www.amazon.com/Cherished-Memories-Life-Mason-Murphree/dp/1722763744/ref=sr_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1586107373&sr=8-2

 

https://www.amazon.com/Passage-into-Madness-Frenzied-Activity/dp/1688948996/ref=sr_1_3?dchild=1&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1586107529&s=books&sr=1-3

 

https://www.amazon.com/Fragments-Time-Bits-Pieces-lived/dp/1981472142/ref=sr_1_4?dchild=1&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1586107558&s=books&sr=1-4

 

https://www.amazon.com/Rhythm-Rhyme-Thoughts-decade-poetry/dp/1723433055/ref=sr_1_5?dchild=1&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1586107582&s=books&sr=1-5

 

https://www.amazon.com/Echoing-Images-Soul-Journey-into/dp/1500366811/ref=sr_1_fkmr0_1?dchild=1&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1586107627&s=books&sr=1-1-fkmr0

 

https://www.amazon.com/Journey-into-Art-Johnson-Murphree-2014-07-28/dp/B019NRG4YG/ref=sr_1_fkmr0_2?dchild=1&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1586107665&s=books&sr=1-2-fkmr0

 

https://www.amazon.com/Honeysuckle-Memories-Ann-Johnson-murphree-2014-07-02/dp/B019L4LL1W/ref=sr_1_fkmr1_1?dchild=1&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1586107698&s=books&sr=1-1-fkmr1

 

https://www.amazon.com/Reflections-Poetry-Ann-Johnson-Murphree-2014-06-20/dp/B01A0CW1FO/ref=sr_1_fkmr1_2?dchild=1&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1586107724&s=books&sr=1-2-fkmr1

 

 

 

Betraying Native Americans…#179

 

4.MAKA-Earth Family
Acrylic Artwork by Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree

 

It appears that the Trump administration has revoked a tribe’s reservation status, in a grab power for land. This news is not new, but worthy a post. The administration has used discretionary powers to attempt to take lands away from Native Americans. I believe the decision is cruel and unnecessary, and many tribes are dealing with the Virus within their sovereign lands.

One major thing that comes to mind is the one-billion-resort casino. I can very easily see our President attempting to buy it from the government. These people are being blindsided. The federal court decided to remove the special land designations bestowed in 2015 under President Barack Obama.

The very bad news is that Native Americans own no land. Reservations are Federal lands, and the Federal government legally owns the land. American Indians living on Indian reservations cannot take mortgages out on their homes, because banks know that American Indians don’t own the land; the Federal government does.

The American tribes lost their lands due to being out matched by better armed Europeans who had black powder guns and cannons, steel armor and swords, which made them very hard to take down with the weapons the natives were used for fighting. The Americans stole the land from the Native Americans, just as the Native Americans stole the land from those before them.

The decision is the latest concerning sign that the Trump administration is willing to use its discretionary powers to attempt to take lands away from tribes. Joe Biden has posted a protest about the move. All year these power grabs have been going on, from East to West coast.

A Judge has blocks Trump from giving Virus relief for Native American communities to corporations. The Trump plan “betrays” congressional intent and tribal nations.” They were eligible for $8 billion in funding allocated by Congress; the Tribes believe that there will be other attempts to direct these funds away.

Have we forgotten the Native Americans?

However, that is just my opinion!

 

EAJM

Author’s Books at Amazon.com

 

https://www.amazon.com/Flying-Broken-Wings-Charlotte-Murphree/dp/1547051329/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1586107137&sr=8-1

 

https://www.amazon.com/Cherished-Memories-Life-Mason-Murphree/dp/1722763744/ref=sr_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1586107373&sr=8-2

 

https://www.amazon.com/Passage-into-Madness-Frenzied-Activity/dp/1688948996/ref=sr_1_3?dchild=1&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1586107529&s=books&sr=1-3

 

https://www.amazon.com/Fragments-Time-Bits-Pieces-lived/dp/1981472142/ref=sr_1_4?dchild=1&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1586107558&s=books&sr=1-4

 

https://www.amazon.com/Rhythm-Rhyme-Thoughts-decade-poetry/dp/1723433055/ref=sr_1_5?dchild=1&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1586107582&s=books&sr=1-5

 

https://www.amazon.com/Echoing-Images-Soul-Journey-into/dp/1500366811/ref=sr_1_fkmr0_1?dchild=1&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1586107627&s=books&sr=1-1-fkmr0

 

https://www.amazon.com/Journey-into-Art-Johnson-Murphree-2014-07-28/dp/B019NRG4YG/ref=sr_1_fkmr0_2?dchild=1&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1586107665&s=books&sr=1-2-fkmr0

 

https://www.amazon.com/Honeysuckle-Memories-Ann-Johnson-murphree-2014-07-02/dp/B019L4LL1W/ref=sr_1_fkmr1_1?dchild=1&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1586107698&s=books&sr=1-1-fkmr1

 

https://www.amazon.com/Reflections-Poetry-Ann-Johnson-Murphree-2014-06-20/dp/B01A0CW1FO/ref=sr_1_fkmr1_2?dchild=1&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1586107724&s=books&sr=1-2-fkmr1

To The Beginning Writer…#156

Image result for writing images

I do believe that I may finally be on the “mend”! The second surgery in three weeks was beginning to show progress. Then, they removed the staples and the incision site opened (I know that you did not want to hear that information, but sh*t happens). I now wear a pump vacuum over the site until it heals from the inside out. Uncomfortable, yes, is it working, yes. Although I am not doing anything but sitting most of the time, I am getting in all my back reading and a bit of research.

 
One part of my research took me back to the fundamentals of writing. I believe that being a writer is all about continually evolving and improving. Sometimes it helps to start as if you have not written at all. Read your work, being a writer is about being an editor of your own work. It is essential, after writing something, to read it carefully, editing out typos and punctuation errors (I sometimes make this mistake after years of writing).

 
I personally find reading the words “aloud” as if I were reading the content for the first time helps. Wordy writing is a hallmark of amateur writers, so as a rule you should try to reduce the word count when you proof read. If a word does not need to be there, get rid of it. I have been guilty of this many times; I call it cleaning out the garbage. Use a grammar checker, if you use Microsoft Word as your word processor, there are a host of grammar checking features.

 
Take a course, its well worth investing in your writing skills if you are serious about being a writer. I took a course when I first begin to write at the University of Wisconsin, where the instructor told me that I was a storyteller, but needed to develop my own voice. In addition, I was to edit, edit, edit.

 
A little book called “Bird by Bird” by Anne Lamott was and still is my writer’s bible, my inspiration. Next, read Shrunk and White’s “Elements of Style”, it is essential to read what will help you avoid commonly made mistakes. Working with the public, I had two individuals that help me through the tough times. The first was my boss who gave me writing projects then covered the paper with “blue ink”, he continued patiently with me until I had the project correct. The second was my last boss before retirement that I worked ten years, he would write his projects and I would correct them and send a fresh copy back to him. He would sign and most times get a nice reward for my work. I never got upset at either; I was learning lessons that would take me down the path to writing. There is a huge amount to learn, I study the craft almost daily, but it is a very enjoyable journey.

 
©elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

 

Author’s books at Amazon.com and Barnes&Noble.com

https://www.amazon.com/Flying-Broken-Wings-Charlotte-Murphree/dp/1547051329/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1D1KFNDD17OYB&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1583695099&sprefix=elizabeth+ann+Johnson-murphree%2Caps%2C240&sr=8-1

https://www.amazon.com/Passage-into-Madness-Frenzied-Activity/dp/1688948996/ref=sr_1_2?crid=1D1KFNDD17OYB&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1583696087&sprefix=elizabeth+ann+Johnson-murphree%2Caps%2C240&sr=8-2

https://www.amazon.com/Rhythm-Rhyme-Thoughts-decade-poetry/dp/1723433055/ref=sr_1_4?crid=1D1KFNDD17OYB&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1583696120&sprefix=elizabeth+ann+Johnson-murphree%2Caps%2C240&sr=8-4

https://www.amazon.com/Fragments-Time-Bits-Pieces-lived/dp/1981472142/ref=sr_1_5?crid=1D1KFNDD17OYB&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1583696152&sprefix=elizabeth+ann+Johnson-murphree%2Caps%2C240&sr=8-5

 

 

https://www.amazon.com/Flying-Broken-Wings-Charlotte-Murphree/dp/1547051329/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1D1KFNDD17OYB&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1583695099&sprefix=elizabeth+ann+Johnson-murphree%2Caps%2C240&sr=8-1https://www.amazon.com/Passage-into-Madness-Frenzied-Activity/dp/1688948996/ref=sr_1_2?crid=1D1KFNDD17OYB&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1583696087&sprefix=elizabeth+ann+Johnson-murphree%2Caps%2C240&sr=8-2https://www.amazon.com/Rhythm-Rhyme-Thoughts-decade-poetry/dp/1723433055/ref=sr_1_4?crid=1D1KFNDD17OYB&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1583696120&sprefix=elizabeth+ann+Johnson-murphree%2Caps%2C240&sr=8-4https://www.amazon.com/Fragments-Time-Bits-Pieces-lived/dp/1981472142/ref=sr_1_5?crid=1D1KFNDD17OYB&keywords=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&qid=1583696152&sprefix=elizabeth+ann+Johnson-murphree%2Caps%2C240&sr=8-5

https://www.amazon.com/s?k=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&crid=1D1KFNDD17OYB&sprefix=elizabeth+ann+Johnson-murphree%2Caps%2C240&ref=nb_sb_ss_i_1_30

https://www.amazon.com/s?k=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&crid=1D1KFNDD17OYB&sprefix=elizabeth+ann+Johnson-murphree%2Caps%2C240&ref=nb_sb_ss_i_1_30

 

https://www.amazon.com/s?k=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&crid=1D1KFNDD17OYB&sprefix=elizabeth+ann+Johnson-murphree%2Caps%2C240&ref=nb_sb_ss_i_1_30

https://www.amazon.com/s?k=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&crid=1D1KFNDD17OYB&sprefix=elizabeth+ann+Johnson-murphree%2Caps%2C240&ref=nb_sb_ss_i_1_30

https://www.amazon.com/s?k=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&crid=1D1KFNDD17OYB&sprefix=elizabeth+ann+Johnson-murphree%2Caps%2C240&ref=nb_sb_ss_i_1_30

https://www.amazon.com/s?k=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&crid=1D1KFNDD17OYB&sprefix=elizabeth+ann+Johnson-murphree%2Caps%2C240&ref=nb_sb_ss_i_1_30

On R&R… – #153

Well my dear followers…I recently had to have aortic valve replacement, so far it is a great success and I can once again breathe.  The pre-op and post-op visits are non-ending at this time.  I have been scheduled for another surgery on March 11, it appears that my body is in need of “band aiding” to keep operating.  Bare with me, a new posting will soon arrive at your fingertips. 

In the mean time, think beautiful thoughts.

Mother and Baby
Watercolors by Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree

 

©2020.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree  

Generations of Secrets and Lies – Part 1…#149

Author’s Note:
This facts of this story has two aspects, one is the presumed facts written from the annals of history; and second by the confident oral history from the memory of Mary Jane Overton, a proud Chickasaw.
The Indian Removal Act of 1830 marks a dark time in American history regarding the new country’s relationship with the Native American population. It first called for the “voluntary” relocation to lands west, then the “forcible removal of all Indians”. The outcome would be that they would reside in the eastern United States to the state of Oklahoma.
May 1838 was set as the voluntary removal date, but many Cherokees remained and did not voluntarily move; many of them resided in my home state of Alabama. Eight years later, Major General Winfield Scott was ordered to round-up and remove the remaining Indians. This forcible removal came to be called the “Trail of Tears”. During those eight years, 46,000 Native Americans were forced to leave their homes in southeastern states.
Many sites in Alabama factored into the removal on the Trail of Tears. Five known routes crossed north Alabama taking many from their homeland on foot, by boat and train through towns like Guntersville, Tuscumbia, my home town of Decatur, Huntsville and Waterloo.
The Trail of Tears is roughly 2,300 miles long and passes through nine states over land and water. Alabama, Arkansas, Georgia, Illinois, Kentucky, Missouri, North Carolina, Oklahoma and Tennessee. Many people were either murdered or relocated with very few hiding in remote locations like Bucks Pocket, Little River Canyon, the mountains, and around the Tennessee River.
Many died from exposure, disease, and starvation on their route to Oklahoma. On this forced march were my great-great grandparents. It is estimated that 4,000 Chickasaw, including any of their black slaves as well as lower class white citizens were in this movement. The Trail of Tears is one of the worst tragedies in American History.

trail-of-tears-hero-AB

The Native American culture is known for its rich oral tradition – instead of using a written language to document their history, these indigenous people simply relied on their verbal language to share their history, customs, rituals, and legends through vivid narratives.
This oral accounting told to me beginning at the age of about six-years-old until my great grandmother died when I was a teenager.

Generations of Secrets and Lies
Part 1
Mary Jane Overton – “Ma”

     “Fosee, my father belonged to the Mississippi Over-Towne Tribe. In his youth, the        Tribe tried to continue their peaceful life without contact with the white man’s world.   Fosee knew that he was a descendant of many generations of Warriors. Born in a round Birch bark roofed dwelling that stood on the edge of the Chickasaw Tribes town. His parents gave their only child the name Fosee, which meant Bird. His younger days were spent hunting small animals and playing Chukka Ball in the open yard centered in the middle of his peoples circled dwellings”. Ma said in her firm no nonsense tone.
Fosse’s father a name that Ma could not remember held a place of prominence in the tribe. It was said that he was a powerful Warrior and skilled hunter, his wife; Fosse’s mother, again no known name, was said to be the most beautiful woman in the Tribe, her beauty came from Cherokee ancestors, and she was of mixed blood, Chickasaw and Cherokee. Her beauty and gentle nature were the reasons Fosse’s father had chosen her to be his wife.
“My father told me that his father remembered all of the grandparents. However, it was on his father’s side, the grandfather he remembered the most and with clarity. He remembered his elegant clothes made of the softened skins of deer. The colorful decorations sewn upon the breast of his shirts by his grandmother were elegant and of the best beads. His grandfathers white hair flowed about his shoulders and his skin engraved with the scars of many wars from his younger days”. Ma stopped for a moment staring at something no one else could see.
This grandfather Fosse’s favorite looked like nobility. It was said that he would listen intently to the stories this grandfather told around the cooking fires and see the softness in his eyes when he detailed of the loss of family and friends in battles. Within a few short years, after the birth of Fosee all four of his close grandparents had succumb to a disease brought into the town by a white man.

 

Author’s Note: To be continued in Generations of Secrets and Lies – Part 2

Crimson Fields…#135

 

OIPQDQ080OK

Crimson Fields…

In a fields of red poppies caressed by a summer

breeze –

Surrendering to twilight.

A union created by Mother Nature is quickly

Blending dark and daylight.

Among the crimson meadow of blossoms

stands an old man watching the sun as it’s

golden orb begins to

Hide behind a tawny sea.

Art brushes, paints and canvas in hand he follows

a narrow trail to his boat anchored at water’s edge,

his story now woven in color about life, as he believed

It should be –

Peaceful

Contented

Free.

 

 

©2019.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

 

Books by author at Amazon.com and Barnes&Noble.com…

 

https://www.amazon.com/s?k=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&i=stripbooks&crid=2BGV3NKK8VSOQ&sprefix=elizabeht+ann+johnson%2Caps%2C213&ref=nb_sb_ss_sc_1_18

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/elizabeth%20ann%20johnson%20murphree

 

A World Without…# 133

Ravindra-Prasad-She-Series

A World Without…

Of tomorrow I dream, and into the star
Filled night comes visions of truth until
The morning fills with light.

Living truth within, discovering both
Bright and darkness until the end.
The future is what it shall be, whither
Standing up or on bended knees.

I face each sunset with a hope of
The coming tomorrow, and a dream
Of a world without pain or sorrow.

 
©2019.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

 

Books by author at Amazon.com and Barnes&Noble.com…

https://www.amazon.com/s?k=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&i=stripbooks&crid=2BGV3NKK8VSOQ&sprefix=elizabeht+ann+johnson%2Caps%2C213&ref=nb_sb_ss_sc_1_18

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/elizabeth%20ann%20johnson%20murphree

 

 

 

The Chickasaw Farmer…#126

 

30. Women in cottonfield

Art by Author

The Chickasaw Farmer…

“A tribute to my Daddy”

Rickety ole man stood on the cotton
Wagon a tin of yellow salve in his
Hand.

Rickety ole wagon
Rickety ole man

A hot southern sun hides behind the
Willows on muddy Flint Creek, cotton
Pickers sweat falling on parched lips
Taste like salty brine while they wait
For the ole man to call “quitting time”.

Rickety ole wagon
Rickety ole man

Young, old, children, women and men
Bloody fingers cut by the barbs of the
Cotton boll dig into the old yellow salve
Tin.

Rickety ole wagon
Rickety ole man

Tar bottom sacks filled with soft white
Gold weary feet follow two old sway
Back mules down a rutted road.

Rickety ole wagon
Rickety ole man

 
Crimson clouds from wagon wheels
Whirl around tired bodies and drained
Minds; feels like pickers been
Working in the cotton fields since the
Beginning of time.

Rickety ole wagon
Rickety ole man

Mules stop at the fork of the road as the
Cotton pickers walked into the dark of the
Night the Ole man’s heart filled with
Appreciation; cause he’s just an old
Chickasaw farmer trying to
Survive inside a “White Nation”.

Rickety ole wagon
Rickety ole man

 
©2019.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

 
Books by author at Amazon.com and Barnes&Noble.com…

https://www.amazon.com/s?k=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&i=stripbooks&crid=2BGV3NKK8VSOQ&sprefix=elizabeht+ann+johnson%2Caps%2C213&ref=nb_sb_ss_sc_1_18

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/elizabeth%20ann%20johnson%20murphree

41+X2DEZIpL._AC_US218_

Honeysuckle Memories…#114

 

Honeysuckle Memories…

Deep within my memories I sometimes walk to a place where my life began, I take an emotional journey, from time to time. Memories with or without images of those days are like a thunderstorms distance echo, you cannot see it; you know that at one time it was there.

A furrowed road, wild honeysuckle; a crumbled chimney beneath the kudzu vines, the remnant memories of that life and dim images never change.
It was the cotton fields surrounding the old weathered shack that stole my daddy’s wandering soul.

In the warm red dirt life sprung from the blood and sweat that nurtured the white gold called cotton, it broke spirits, and hardened souls. In memory, the image from the past holds but one old leathered face, my daddy’s.

Life goes by quickly, places and people vanish without a trace, time and progress erases the landscape of our lives, memories are made of gold. In the shadows of the mind is a time of how life use to be; and with only a thought I can recall those sweet honeysuckle memories.
©2019.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

Books by author at Amazon.com and Barnes&Noble.com $.99 to $15:

https://www.amazon.com/s?k=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&i=stripbooks&crid=2BGV3NKK8VSOQ&sprefix=elizabeht+ann+johnson%2Caps%2C213&ref=nb_sb_ss_sc_1_18

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/elizabeth%20ann%20johnson%20murphree

 

Going Home…#112

Going Home…

Morning, glorious morning, the sunbeams seeps brightly through the windowpane like frost from winters frozen ground. I rise, face the Eastern sky that is where the warmth of the day can be found. I open the window the breeze bathes me with the scent of lilacs that grow lavishly in the spring. While somewhere in the distance, plum dusk lingers as the last moments of night clings.

A robin searches for worms beneath my crabapple tree, I sip from my favorite cup, a hot peach flavored tea. It is time to dress, comb my snow-white hair and take the well-worn path down the hillside toward the sea. At water’s edge, I pause to remember God, to hear his wondrous call, I will dedicate this moment to the Great Mystery of it all. I pray for patience in enjoying these golden years, to hold my head high and face life without fear.

I return home and I hear children playing in the fields far away, I remember the joy of the imaginary castles in the sky that I use to build. I stop to think, have I sat here all day, reliving my own childhood in that special way? I slowly rise from the old oak rocker, did I remember to eat, is it time to go inside, to wash the dried sand from my feet.

It is then that I return to my thoughts as evening shadows come into sight. It is time for me to climb beneath my mother’s old quilts, my eyes will close and I will flow among the starless time called sleep, my God has a promise to keep. I float across a space upon the softness of a sparkling wind, along the way I see family and friends. I know that my soul from its earthly body has gone; where silver sands and emerald seas will forever be a part of me…this is everlasting love, at last I am home.

©2019.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree
Books by author at Amazon.com and Barnes&Noble.com $.99 to $15:

https://www.amazon.com/s?k=elizabeth+ann+johnson-murphree&i=stripbooks&crid=2BGV3NKK8VSOQ&sprefix=elizabeht+ann+johnson%2Caps%2C213&ref=nb_sb_ss_sc_1_18

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/elizabeth%20ann%20johnson%20murphree