The Beauty of a Sunrise and a Great Book Recommendation

Almost two days after the stunning eclipse the sun brightened the dewy morning. The sun, streaming through the apple orchard, dappled the horizon with soft shades of pink across an almost fluorescent aqua blue. It was so extraordinarily beautiful!

I have been reflecting on the future and what a beautiful mess we all live in. Our own beautiful messes. Some maybe as beautiful of a life story as that horizon. Everyone has such a rich story and it is such a shame that it is very hard to truly learn someone’s story. Speaking of rich life stories…

Mark Sullivan wrote a New York Times Best-seller, “Beneath a Scarlet Sky” written about Pino Lella life story as an extraordinary Italian teenager. Below is a book description.

Beneath a Scarlet Sky

                  “It’s a new and dangerous world.”

This is a quote taken from “Beneath a Scarlet Sky,” a captivating historical biography written by Mark Sullivan. The protagonist of the story is an Italian teenager Pino Lella who is obsessed with movies, pop culture, and girls. Little does he want to do with the war raging through his country. This book follows his journey of fighting for the growing resistance of Jews through the Alps during WWII. Pino leads the resistance through the dangerous frozen cliffs of the Swiss Alps, which, literally trap him and the refugees he’s helping escape Italy. Through many difficult situations, that means life or death for many. He guides many refugees across the Alps in blinding weather circumstances. Pino becomes involved in some undercover action against the Germans as a General’s driver. Fighting his way through the war. Throughout this book is romance, action and a first-hand account of what really happened.  A heroic book fought from many fronts all for one liberty.



Check Your Messages…

A good meditation on our spiritual lives.

Footprints on the Journey

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gone to check my cellphone because I thought I heard it ding or felt it vibrate in my bag only to find that I haven’t received any new messages, emails or updates on social media. If the statistics I’ve seen are correct and I fall into the ‘average’ user, I probably check it between 80-150 times per day.

That number really doesn’t surprise me. I communicate with most of my family and friends through texting and the messages I send and receive keep me connected. On days when I forget my phone or even misplace it for a while, I feel emotionally naked and like a social Neanderthal.

Earlier this month, Pope Francis asked some really good questions including: “What would happen if we treated the Bible like we treated our cellphones?”

“What would happen if we turned back when we forget…

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New Beginnings

A new beginning this new year presents.

A rushing tide of new emotions, new vocations, new relatives.

All beginning and ending just like you and me.

A deadened leaf falling from a darkened tree.

Reminds us of what’s to come.

But nay we mustn’t dwell on it now.

With the fresh air of today and the blushing apples that hang from the budding trees.

A new beginning.



How Much Time Do We Have – A Tribute to the Chosen Frozen

My grandpa was a Korean War veteran

He fought through thick and thin.

Survived a morbid hell.

To return to a calm shore in the states.

A battered warrior a calm bride.

United to provide three

Grown and gone they have families of their own.


I see the piercing red lights echoing there deafening call.


A soldier for war now a soldier for life.

Battling the diagnostics

That say he won’t survive.

Struggling through war after war.

Living breath by breath.

Thankful for each one.

Something to concentrate on.


How long do we have? this soldier asks.

A passion away fought for country and family.

Time will tell.


A Lost Sketch Worth Your Time

Mollified beyond belief,

I reach for words.

To express my anger, confusion, wrought despair

Like a tiny gnat on a world map


I write.

Sketch. Sketch. Sketch.


I sit, ink in hand

Scrolling letters

Lines, feathers, peacocks, and apples.

With my fine tipped brush.

With my lifted quill.

Sketch. Sketch. Sketch.


I think of life

And what its dealt me.

I think of distance, love, and struggle.

I write to compose my own justice.

I write to attain my own self-liberty.

Sketch. Sketch. Sketch.


Poetry, pastries, words, ink.

This is what I’ve accomplished so far.

What next?

I reach for a star

Plucked from the Heavens

I swear it seems that far.

Sketch. Sketch. Sketch


To swing into the metropolis of cinema

Seems a far cry

A small dilemma

I cannot go there

I would struggle and lose hope.

Sketch. Sketch. Sketch.


Could inspiration and creation carry me that far?

A small dreamer.

I lift my quill and tuck it tightly into my pocket.

For another day.