Seasons…#65

July 20, 2019August 2, 2019 ~ Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree ~ Leave a comment

Making yourself live with no contact with

Others, you are doomed. Like the flowers of

Summer without human contact, the soul

May cease to bloom.

Time and stillness may be an important need

To reject sharing life with others, may be the

Greatest form of greed. Purpose has its seasons,

Life follows a well-planned path; your journey has

A reason.

Clearing the mind and restoring the spirit will

smooth any rutted road; there is a plan of how

your life should unfold. You may be on the right

Path today; the journey may seem rough, the

Essence and energy of your spirit will find the true

Way.

Gratefulness, awareness and God’s grace is woven

Within the fabric of your being for a reason. Devote

Today to discovering your true, self create your own

Season.

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What the Voices took from Me…#63

July 18, 2019 ~ Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree ~ 5 Comments

**Charlotte Jean Murphree July 13, 1958-July 21, 2010**

You left the world to early, free from a life that

Left you filled with doubt. You lived the lives of

Many, the voices, always hoping just to be one,

You.

I now wait for that spark from heaven, I willed

You not to go, God did not agree. Was your life

Fulfilled in such a short time, will I ever know?

You had beginnings, disappointments, new starts,

You worried about tomorrow, unable to feel

Happiness in what you accomplished today.

I suffer your being gone, sadness wretches my days,

The glow died there was no hope. It seems like one

Long unhappy dream.

Roaming within my mind, I walk the fields of your

Life. A time of clouded joy, then time was blown

Away.

Born in innocence, fresh, life clear, before the voices

Took over, bringing fear. I could not help you in your

Solitude while you nursed your unconquerable fears.

As the moonlight pales, I yearn for lost years, before

The mental strife. Before the voices took over your life.

It was after sunset that you died, a void that cannot

Be filled, you will never grow old. I miss your smiles,

Your red tresses flowing down your back, your light will

Always shine; your radiance will never fade.

Sleep my child in eternal rest…

Always in Search of Words…#58

July 10, 2019 ~ Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree ~ Leave a comment

Holding on to the past when you need to let go – accepting that there are things in life that should not be. Sometimes letting go is what makes us stronger, happier, and more successful in the end. Yet, writing fiction that is based on the past can be funny, sad or just used as a method of putting the past where it should be…in the past.

These books based on my past, good, bad or indifferent…poetry it was a method of letting go, growing, and thriving in acknowledging many thoughts.

Thank you for your support the book sales are great and all because of you my readers and fellow bloggers. Happy holidays and enjoy every moment for all we have is today.

Ann Johnson-Murphree Poetry Books – A Collection of Poetry

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Anger and Sadness…#55

July 1, 2019July 5, 2019 ~ Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree ~ 2 Comments

Watercolor by Elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

Doubt and despair at times over life, how long until the end. Is there no end. Do we crossover without suffering. There was a day when I watched in silence while inside the screams were not coming. The horror closed up my throat. I watched in silence as a pure light flickered then went out, silence filled the room; the angel in our life was gone.

Words like a blade thirsting for blood stabbed at my heart, even a mother’s love could not save her. The day over, my heart ripped from my bosom tossed into the night. With the sunrise your soul beautiful and innocent soul took flight.

God let me see you blossom, he let me see you grow; why he wanted, you back know one would know. Anger and sadness I could not rest, my child is gone with the rising sun and with it, and I watched my happiness flee.

Peace and Love

Elizabeth

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On Death…#54

June 26, 2019 ~ Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree ~ 13 Comments

The voice on the other end of the line was distraught, yet the sobs were recognizably those of one of my adult children. An individual, a father figure had gone from critical to a “comfort care” situation. When your children’s hearts are breaking, so does yours, helpless to take away the pain that is in the forefront.

The first call was laced with a magnitude of denial; of course, the medical professionals do not “help” the journey to reality with taking extraordinary measures under the conditions and the age of the patient. Ever costly method available to them is considered, having worked in the health care industry at one point in my life, the term “getting another day” became more than familiar.

Although I cannot express enough my belief in a “Living Will”. The end results in many of these situations will be the same, only with the coffers of the industry getting fatter at the expense of a family whose frightened with the prospects of death and they agree beyond their “knowing” and maintain the denial vigil.

I do not “deny” this process to those who need the time, I have always had to deal in reality and I have never had the possibility to go through a systematic dying stage. I have confronted “anger”! No why me, but angry because the time was too short. No one is to blame, we are born dying and that is life, but I become angry at time, wasted time.

I have never tried to “bargain” with God, I tried once but Jesus did not come down and raise from his deathbed the most important person in my life, my father. It will not prolong life, it is a waste of precious time with the person you love, the person that is about to leave from your realm of existence forever.

The demon depression is always there, quickly to pounce on its prey, rob senses and again precious time. I cannot say grief will get better with time; the answer to this question is in the hands of the depressed. Grief itself is an abuser and a killer; it will take you to the depths of hell and back before it will release you from its talons of doubt and angry denial.

Acceptance is an individual choice. You can chose to live life with deep and wonderful memories of life or you can accept weakness and live in a void for which there may be no return. Choices! I believe those who are passing on chose to face reality long before those who love them do.

Today, I waited for the call that would tell me the suffering has ended that of my son and that of the “father” that he chose to accept rather than his own. I pray for a release from life that is no longer sustainable and a quick entry into another realm of existence. I pray for the hurt my child feels today to end, for the grieving process is much harder and lasts much longer.

There are no words to ease the pain, take away the hurt, but silently being there ready to pick them up when they have fallen, wipe away tears, reinforce God’s plan. This is all we can hope for, that and continued prayer. The last thing is for me to accept my son’s love of a father-in-law over that of his own father. Death is hard on everyone.

Peace and Love

Elizabeth

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Fear…#51

June 20, 2019 ~ Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree ~ 5 Comments

If fear were a color,
it would be black, void and unfeeling.

If fear were a taste,
it would be that of bitter weeds.

If fear were a feeling,
it would be that of suffocating.

If fear were a smell,
it would be that of burning flesh.

If fear were a sound,
it would be the rattle of one’s last breath.

Peace and Love

Elizabeth

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The doctor’s words ripped into my heart he refused to see my fevered baby, the pain like no other I had ever known; I was terrified, so much so, my body shakes uncontrollably. I would not know it then, but his decision sentenced my child to life in a demonic prison created from the fevered mind of a baby.

Altered Senses…#49

June 14, 2019 ~ Elizabeth Ann Johnson-Murphree ~ 2 Comments

Existence in a world of encircled souls, scene after scene, day after day, the element of life less valued is the future. The environment, and promises that reveal nothing, the past descends like toxic rain from the polluted sky, washing away all dreams.

The ghost of youth would go chanting within the soul, their paths blocked, evil spread across the landscape of the homeland. Loneliness limits love and happiness; break out of your bondage of lies, always alert, always moving toward the future. If one stays shrouded by the abundant solitude, then there is no escape.

Peace and Love

Elizabeth

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