The Abyss

“Abyss”
1. A deep, immeasurable space, gulf or cavity; vast chasm.
2. The infernal regions, hell.




The room was filled with a smoky haze. The smell of smoke, sweat, and alcohol permeated the air. The pounding beat of the music had become part of my own heartbeat by the end of the night. Bodies pulsated to sound just as the blood in my veins pulsed to the beat of my own heart. There must have been more than two hundred bodies moving together as one; yet the only person I saw in the room that night was her.

Looking back on things, I guess it was in junior high when I realized that my feelings for boys were not the same as my friends were. Boys were great to play football with, great to hang out with; but great to kiss and go to 2nd base with? Arrghh, that thought just didn’t seem normal to me. In some ways; the fact that the boys didn’t think of me as girlfriend material was a blessing in disguise. Sure, I wished the cute blond boy I had known since 1st grade would ask me to dance; but secretly I didn’t know what to do if he had asked. Boys... Boys just didn’t make sense to me.

Girls though; well that was a whole other story. A story I had no clue as to how it would end, or even what the plot might be; but somehow this was going to be the biggest story of my life. It was a story kind of like Alice in Wonderland, as traveled through the looking glass of my own life. Mysterious and frightening at times, yet wonderful events were to follow me. A life of what I had always been told was normal was erased, my whole perspective turned upside down. Coming to realization that you are different from all of your friends can almost seem like a trip with the Mad Hatter. It was at times, a trip the scared the hell out of me.

How I wanted to fall in love, to lie wrapped in the arms of another person while we slept through the wild thunder storm outside our window. How many times I dreamed of this, trying with all my might to put a strong, muscular hero next to me; yet every time I closed my eyes a sense of softness and gentleness flooded my mind. To connect with some, not just for a physical and sexual connection; but to really connect with someone emotionally and, yes, physically. Eventually I came to believe the rhetoric about gay people and tried convinced myself that to ever allow myself to fall in love with a woman was a fate far worse than spending my life alone. As much as I prayed for these emotions to change, it just seemed as if God was unwilling to budge on this issue. Eventually, I began to believe that my destiny was to be alone. After all, it really is a pretty far fetched or overly confident idea that everyone has a soul mate. Even God would have trouble keeping all of that straight. Well, at least that was what I thought I had convinced myself of. That is, until Saturday night, August 24th, 1997.

“Becca, hey Becca”, I heard as I crossed the busy street on Capital Hill in Seattle, “what the hell are you doing up here?”

The voice was from “Rorie”, the lead cashier at the grocery store where I usually shopped. Wavy blond hair and blue eyes so deep you felt you could dive into. I avoided her checkout line like the plague, afraid that if I ever did go there she would see my sweating palms, and my uncontrollable trembling as though I were having a seizure. Rorie was the woman I used to dream about, well that was a long time ago and I just didn’t have room in my life for romantic notions of any kind; especially her kind.

“Becca, wait up” she called as I tried to pretend I didn’t hear her.

“Hey Rorie, fancy seeing you here” I finally replied as she caught up with me. “I don’t normally come up here, but that little pizza joint down the street was the only thing that sounded good to me tonight”, I lied. Truthfully, I usually drove up and down the street trying to convince myself that the Gay District of Seattle really was the “Gateway to Hell” Pastor Rick told us on more than one Sunday.

“Homosexuals are Satan’s pawns, trying to convince the world to tolerate these individuals”, he would preach Sunday after Sunday. “AIDS is the fire God has sent to cleanse to earth” Pastor Rick’s voice echoed through my mind as I tried to find away to get away from her and back to the lonely comfort of my apartment that night.

“Hey, there is a group of us going to a new club up here on the Hill tonight, why don’t you come with us?” asked Rorie.

With that scared shitless look I get, I stammered out a pretty lame excuse. “I, I really have a lot of stuff at home to catch up on” I nervously replied to her. Plus, thinking to my self “what makes her think I’m like her, GAY!”

“Well if ya feel like wandering out tonight, we’ll be at the ‘Dungeon’ over on Martin St.” she said as she took off down the street. Looking over her shoulder, she winked and whispered “I’m feeling lucky tonight.”

After going home, I turned on the television and made some popcorn, trying with everything inside of me to get the picture of Rorie out of my head. “I’m feeling lucky”, those words echoed thru my mind for the next hour or so. Changing into my jeans, Doc Martins, and my favorite worn, black shirt; an irresistible pull drug me back to Capital Hill.

Walking up the street, afraid someone would spot me, I began to hear and feel the pounding music coming from the building at the end of the block. The voice of Pastor Rick, “Capital Hill is Seattle’s gateway to hell” going over and over in my head. Wanting to turn and run, yet an invisible magnetic pull directed me to the escalator going to the upper level of the Public Market building. With one last deep breath, I opened the door to the dark, smoky abyss called the Dungeon.

Breathing in the intoxicating smell of the smoke and sweat, I walked over to the bar and nervously ordered a bottle of Pyramid beer.

“Haven’t seen you here before” came a voice from behind the bar.

“Umm, no, it’s my first time here” I stuttered, replying to young man handing the beer to me.

“Well, tonight’s the night to be here, the place is packed” he replied. “Have a good time” he winked and walked away.

Moving through the crowd, I found a place over in the corner where I could watch the crowd as the moved with the pounding music. Nervously hiding behind my bottle of beer, I searched the room for her. The lights, the heat, the smells, and the beer were all beginning to make my head spin slightly. I could feel the shaking of my body begin to give into the beat of the music. After another beer, I began to feel almost comfortable and at home in this dark, smoky room. Then through the dark haze, our eyes locked in on each other.

Gulping down my beer I walked toward her. Shaking and nervous, yet an uncontrollable force pulled toward her.

“Come on, let’s get out on the dance floor” she said as she reached out and gently guided me by my hand. The electrical current between our touch almost caused the lights to blow up in the room, or at least it felt that way.

For the next two hours, we danced, drank beer, and danced some more. I don’t think I danced this much since High School 5 years ago. Finally, just before 2 a.m., the music stopped the pounding beat and began to slow into an almost dream like pace.

“One last dance” she asked as her arms slipped around my waist.

The warm wetness of her back and the musty smell of sweat intoxicated me even more. The music and 200 plus other people all disappeared, and for the next six to seven minutes, the only two people in the world that night were Rorie and I.

Walking out to the street that night, we talked about everything and nothing. I asked if I could meet her for dinner the next evening, she said yes, and for the next four months we were inseparable. We spent our days exploring Seattle, going to the zoo, Pike Place Market, movies, whatever we could find to do. That first night at the Dungeon, my body wanted her so completely and badly that it hurt. As I tried to reach out, to taste the soft sweetness of her lips, she would hold back, saying "let's not rush things." It was almost two weeks later before we made love for the first time. For the next three months, life seemed perfect. We would stay up all night watching old movies, eating popcorn, and falling asleep in each others arms.

Then, unexplainably Rorie began to descend down through the dark abyss of her mind. Rorie began to distance herself from me at times. She would take off for a walk and be gone for hours. But then she would come back to my place, and we would make love to each other as if it was our first time together. For the next few weeks this became our pattern. Silence, distance, and then an all consuming need to be with each other. Each time though, I would feel myself losing a part of Rorie and at times I felt, a part of me. Then I woke one morning to find her gone. Panicked, I dressed and ran outside. I walked our favorite hikes around the city, asking at the Starbucks we frequented if they had seen her. I called her family, they said they heard from her a couple of days ago and that she didn’t sound quite right, but nothing that would cause them to panic. Rorie’s dad said he go out and look, also; as he told me not to worry, she probably just wanted some time alone.

About 10 p.m. the doorbell rang. Panicked and exhausted I opened it. There stood Rorie, blood covering her shirt, tear stains down her face. Grabbing her and holding her in my arms I cried uncontrollably. Finally she led me to the couch. I tried to get her to talk to me about what happened.

“Who did this to you?” I sobbed. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

“Just hold me” was all she could say.

Clinging to each other, Rorie finally fell asleep in my lap. As I gently undid her shirt to get the blood off of her I saw dozens of cuts on her arms. A quiet coldness came over me as I went back to my high school years.

The cuts on Rorie’s arms were identical to the scars on my own arms. I remembered back when I would try to rid myself of my sins by bleeding the evilness out of me. My senior year in High School I wore long sleeve shirts to cover the red, swollen, infected marks on my arms. The feel of the warm blood running down my arm as the cold steel of the razor blade cut through my flesh I would try to erase all the evilness I thought was within me. The blood Jesus shed for our sins was not enough to atone me of my unholy thoughts, I would tell myself as I cut through my flesh day after day. Yet as the blood ran down my body, my thoughts, my urges, and my desire to hold a woman in my arms never subsided.

I began to convince my self that it was better to be alone than to allow my self to sin in this way. Well, at least I thought I had convinced myself. Thinking back to that first night we danced, I could still taste the salt on my lips from the sweat of her neck; the world seemed perfect to me at that moment. Now, a cold darkness has flooded back into my mind.

I have to find a way to save her I thought to myself as I held her ravaged body next to mine. I gently slipped a clean shirt over her and fell asleep next to her for the rest of the night. As we slept, I wrestled silently with my own demons as they tried viciously to regain control of my mind.

“I am so sorry for scaring you yesterday” Rorie said as I handed her a cup of coffee.

“It’s ok, you can talk to me you know” I replied.

“Hey the scrapes on my arms, they’re just, you know, I dumped my bike into some Blackberry bushes. Those damn things will cut you to pieces.” Taking her coffee and going to the chair in the living room, seemingly trying to avoid my eyes as she explained the day to me.

How I knew all of these stories. I think I invented them years earlier.

“Rorie, we…, we need to talk” I tried to say with out beginning to cry. “I think I kind if know what your going through.”

“Hey it’s really no big deal, I told you I just wanted to get away and then had an accident on my bike. That’s all” she said as she purposely avoided my eyes. “I think maybe we need some time apart, all of this is going way too fast, and I’m your first girlfriend”, she said without emotion. “Those relationships never last, ya know.”

“I don’t give a shit if you’re my first or my twentieth girlfriend, I know what I feel for you” I tried to say without bursting into tears.
“Rorie I know you didn’t cut yourself in the Blackberry bushes” I said as I tried to look her directly in the eyes.
“I have scars on my body that I have never shown anyone before” as I stood and began to remove my shirt. "You don't have a clue to the things that I put myself through years ago."

“I just need to get out of here” she said as she grabbed her jacket and reached for the door. “This is never going to work Becca, please believe me” she cried as the door closed.

The rest of that day, I think I cried until there were no more fluids left in my body. Exhausted, I dialed her number.

“Hello” her voice on the other end seemed so far away to me. “Hello, Becca is that you?”
“I told you I would be ok, but I want you to leave me alone, don’t call again” as the phone went silent.

The next few weeks were a blur to me. I went to work each day, numbly helping one customer after another. Each time I looked up and saw a twenty-something blond woman, my heart would begin to race. Each time I realized that it was only a stranger looking for some assistance in my department; the cloud around me grew a bit darker. Eventually though, things began to become somewhat clearer. I began to go back to the gym, I even ventured out on my own to the local bar, where I met Jordyn.

Jordyn had blond hair and blue eyes, but that was where the similarities to Rorie ended. Jordyn was just finishing her Masters' degree at the University of Washington in elementary education. Her dream was to work with underprivileged children in the inner-city. To get them out into the country for field trips, to go to museums, the symphony, plays, all the things that kids who come from gangs and welfare families don't normally get to do. Jordyn's main focus in life was to create hope where there seemed to be no hope. Maybe that is why I fell in love with her.

Jordyn showed me that I could still have a relationship with God and be gay. She taught me that acceptance wasn't only accepting those who thought and looked like me, but to accept those who came from far different lives than I did. "Becca" she said to me one day while I rested my head on her shoulder, " you have had so much crap shoved down your throat about what is and is not acceptable, I'm completely surprised that you have never gone over the edge."

"I know," I replied. "Sometimes I still believe a lot of the things Pastor Rick told me."
"He's not a bad guy" she replied back, "he's just really miss informed about a lot of things. I think he really, truly cares about you but he doesn't understand how God could create people who could fall in love with each other in the way we have."

"I know that, but sometimes don't you think that maybe we are the ones who are wrong?"

"Nope"

"Really, you really 100% believe that God created homosexuals just the same as the straight people?"

"Yeah, I really believe it. I believe that each of us was created in Gods image, but that doesn't mean that God is a white, heterosexual male. It means that we were created to love each other as God loves us. That each of us deserves unconditional love, a love in which it doesn't matter if you are straight or gay. We're not a bunch of freaking clones running around."

"But I've grown up believing that I am an abomination, a mistake somehow. It's just hard to get over all of that."

"I know, but let me try to show you how much you really matter not only to me, but to God, also," as she gently began to kiss away my tears.

That night we made love in front of the fireplace, and fell asleep clinging to each other. For once I felt completely safe, for once I began to really believe I was worthwhile and loved. Jordyn needed to go out of town for a couple of weeks to complete a project for her Master's Dissertation which was coming up soon. I made breakfast for us and helped her to pack; making sure that she had my worn t-shirt that she had come to love falling asleep in. We kissed goodbye and I watched her drive away. Two weeks were going to seem like an eternity to me.

The next day after work, for some unknown reason, I ventured to the Capital Hill market for groceries. I hadn't been there since meeting Jordyn. As I pushed the cart up and down the aisles, I scanned the store for a glimpse of Rorie. Finally I asked at the front if she was working.

"Rorie left, no notice, no forwarding address, no anything. We have all been pretty worried about her," explained Dan, the store manager.

"I haven't spoken to her in almost two months," I told him.

"Well, we sent her last check to her parents, her mom stopped by and said she was having some problems, but she was working through them. That was the last we've heard. If you see her, tell her we miss her."

"I will do that," as I thanked him and left to go home. Jordyn should be calling anytime and I had a huge pile of laundry to get done.

About 8 p.m. the phone rang.

"Hey sexy," Jordyn said in her best low sultry voice, which was not all that good.

Laughing, I replied "Hey to you."

"What'cha doing," she asked.

"Missing you."

"Me, too"

"I was just getting laundry together, you left three pairs of sock here, hope your feet don't get cold," I scolded her.

"Only in bed. Your not there to keep them warm" she laughed gently.

"Hey, don't be upset with me, but I looked for Rorie today."

"Did you see her?"

"No, she left her job and nobody has seen her since, I guess her parents said she needed to work some things out."

"I know you love her and you probably always will, I don't expect you to forget about her. But, be careful; don't get caught up in her emotional problems. It can drag you down faster than you think."

"I know. I don't know really why I even went up there."

"It's ok; I probably would have done the same thing."

"You know," I said as I changed the subject abruptly, "I really miss you, and it's only been a couple of days."

"Me, too."

"What'cha having for dinner?"

"I don't know, probably some pizza I got last night, a glass of wine, and lots of studying. How about you?"

"A salad, I think."

We continued to talk about nothing and everything for the next few minutes before saying goodnight. Each night for the next few days was the same routine. Sunday night finally rolled around, two more days and Jordyn would be home. "God how I missed her," I said to myself.

In the Sunday paper I saw an article about Grace Fellowship holding a workshop on dealing with homosexuals in the church. For some unknown reason I decided to go. "Maybe Pastor Rick has had a revolution," I thought out loud.

There must have been 200 cars in the parking lot when I arrived. This should have been a warning to me that I wasn't ready to deal with the rhetoric that would be preached tonight. Entering the church, I felt at once a familiar welcoming and uneasiness all at the same moment. For the next two hours, the demons I thought that I had finally put to rest, came roaring back at me like an uncontrolled forest fire. It seemed as if the flames of hell itself began to engulf me.

At the end of the service, Pastor Rick gave an alter call.

"All of you who have been dealing with the illusion of Homosexuality, all of you who have fallen for the lies of the Gay movement, tonight God is reaching out for your soul. Come forward and repent before there is no more time. We don't know the time or day of His return, tonight may be your final chance, return to him now," Pastor Rick spoke.

As I began walking towards the alter, Jordyn's voice was in my head. "God loves you just the way you are, He made you; you ARE His creation."

Just before reaching the alter, I turned and ran from the church. Getting into my car, I drove as fast as I could to Capital Hill. Entering the Dungeon, once again I transported back to August 21. The smoke, the sweat the alcohol, all of these imploded my senses. The dark abyss of the club began to resemble the abyss of my mind. 8 or 9 beers, and 6 or 7 shots of Cuervo later, I stumbled to the car. After somehow arriving back at my apartment, I spent the rest of the night wrapped around the toilet.

The coldness of the porcelain and the stench of my vomit surrounded me. The voice of Pastor Rick from the night before echoed through my head. "Their lies are stealing our children; their lies are saying to the weak that sex is the answer to life. Their lies have begun to destroy our world."
As I stood to wash the remains of the night before from my face, I saw the glint of stainless steel in the medicine cabinet. It had been probably 10 years since I had last cut into my own flesh, yet the urge to release my pain was as fresh as the blood in my memory.

As I cut through my flesh, the heat of the flames of hell seemed to engulf me. Blood running down my arms and legs, I began to cry, tears flowed from eyes until I fell asleep on the bathroom floor.

Opening my eyes, I felt as though I had been drugged. My arms burned and ached, the disinfectant smell singed my nose as I tried to breathe. As I tried to focus, a grayish white light shone above me. A man in a dress shirt and colorful tie was standing beside me.

“Hey it’s sure nice to see finally coming around” he spoke as he held a cold metal object against my breast. “You’ve had everyone here at Memorial pretty worried, ya know.”

“Can I have some water” I said as the words barely squeaked out of my mouth. “Where am I?”

“Memorial General Hospital” he said as he held the water for me. “Just a sip, don’t over do it.”
“You’re friend Jordyn brought you in three days ago.” He said as he gave one more sip.

“What day is it” I asked.

“Tuesday, August 28th, 1998” he said.

“98?” I asked confusingly, "not 97?"

“Yep 1998, Clintons the President, and he still can’t seem to keep his pants on” the young Doctor laughed as he checked my bandages.

“What are the bandages for?” I asked as I tried to sit up. “Why are my arms burning so badly?”

“You did a pretty good job on yourself” he replied as he slowly took off the bandage on my left arm.

“What do you mean? Where’s Rorie?” I asked in my drugged confusion.

“I don’t know about Rorie, but Jordyn is worried sick about you.” He said. “She’s coming back soon; I’ll tell her you’re awake, ok?”
“Just try to relax for now, ok” he quietly said.

As I closed my eyes and laid my head back onto the pillow, I could once again smell the smoke, sweat and alcohol from the Club. Jordyn's image began to form in my mind. A warm comforting feeling flooded my body. Yes, I could still hear Pastor Rick's voice, and I could still see Rorie slipping away from me; yet somehow I could also finally feel an all consuming love surrounding me.

“1998”, I said to my self, as I looked into the dim light above me. “Hmm, maybe I’m finally finding my way out of this dark abyss of a hell that I’ve been wandering in for so many years.”

That night as I slept in the hospital bed, Jordyn by side, never once letting go of my hand, I dreamed for the first time in years about the sunshine and warmth. The memory of Rorie was beginning to fade, although I didn’t want to completely forget her, but as Jordyn held me and lifted me out of the Abyss, I looked forward to my life with her.

“Hey I’ve missed you” was the tearful, gentle voice next to me when I woke the next morning. "You really know how to make 2 weeks seem like an eternity, you know."

“It’s good to be back” I whispered as I looked in to the deep blue universe of Jordyn’s eyes. “It’s really, really good to be back.” I smiled weakly as I closed my eyes.

I still have a picture of Rorie in my wallet, and I have even seen her walking down the street a few times. Whether or not she has ever found her way yet, I don't know. But, each day my scars grow a bit lighter, and my love for Jordyn grows a bit stronger. It's 2004; Pastor Rick is still preaching his view of life. We have new President who is doing everything in his power to condemn us. People are still believing that the love between Jordyn and I, and other's like us is wrong and evil, but each day I seem to find something new and wonderful in the universe. Each day I realize that God didn't create love in a "one size fits all" type of love. That each person is unique and special, that each of us has worth. I guess I keep trying to believe that it's God's way of telling me that I am loved. That our differences are what makes us his children. That we all still have a lot to learn, and although I still believe in the vast abyss of hell; I also believe that God's arms are big enough to protect us. That is, if we just believe.

With all the snow and a sore back from shoveling and falling in it, I decided that White Christmas was due for an update.

enjoy....



A Not so White Christmas


I’m Dreaming of a Brown Christmas,
Just like Walla Walla is known for,
Where the tree tops are barren…children are star’in
At the rain pour’in down.

I’m dreaming of a Brown Christmas,
With every shovel full of snow I must throw..
May your days be gloomy and warm….
And all your Christmas’s be Brown.

Cold steel,
Cutting, burning, tearing at the veil of skin…

Skin,
A veil covering our imperfections
Hiding our inner demons
A cloak covering our darkness

Steel slicing through the veil,
Warmth flows out of the darkness
freedom of our sins and imperfections

Cold steel,
Cooling the heat of failure
Quenching the fire of judgement of those surrounding us.

Love thy neighbor as thy self…
The greatest is Love…
For God so Loved the world…

The Book of which we swear upon, the Book that we use as a guide for our lives speaks of Love in almost every page.

The inspiration of the Book spent His life reaching out with Love to those who were different from the “norm”; yet His followers spend their time, energy and money telling all to hate those who Love in a way that is not theirs.

This is the original version of “The Greatest is Love”, the previous entry was one I used for a creative writing class, my instructor felt that the original was “too personal”. With the change of plans for our wedding in California now that that the people of CA have spoke, I dug this out once more. Hope you enjoy it

D..


It has been told that Faith, Hope, and Love are the three greatest virtues to be had.
Of these Three,
Love is the Greatest.

For with your Love
I have found the Faith within myself that once was lost.

With renewed Faith
I now believe in the Hope of our future.
With the Hope of what our future holds in store for us
I now give myself to Love you completely.

You have shown me that with out Love,
There is no Faith,
Without Faith,
There can be no Hope,
And without Hope
There is no reason to Love.

Faith, Hope, and Love…
And the greatest of these is
Love.

Alone

Karen left tonight to work in Moses Lake for about 3 to 6 months or more. Ok, I know it's only 2 flippin' hours away; but somehow tonight it feels like she's in a country on the other side of the world. This was the first time I cried when we had to spend time apart. Maybe because we just had pretty great week together (the first one in a while), I just don't really know why I became so emotional. Maybe it was the full moon.



Alone, I miss the feel of your touch

the smell of your skin,
the sound of your laugh.

Alone, I feel as if a part of me is missing
an emptiness within my stomach
an ache around my heart.



Alone, the animals gather around to offer comfort
a cat on my foot, a dog by my side
the television drowns my inner tears.



I watch Ellen on the "tube"
laughter and silliness, I forget myself for a moment
but then, pictures of Ellen and Portia
I think of next summer
a day we have dreamed of
vows of our love for each other


Alone tonight,
seeing each other one day a week
what feels today as forever,
will soon give us Forever.



I Love You.

D

Wine

Another new poem for your entertainment....







Springtime Saturday Afternoon in Walla Walla


Saturday afternoon
The sunshine calls, beckons us outside
Sunshine, warmth of which we have not seen nor felt for months
The intoxicating smells of the flower gardens and budding vineyards
Happiness found in the discovery of the new foal running on wobbly legs
The new birth of spring is upon us

We park near the edge of town, giddy as the foal just moments ago
Wine, Walla Walla Wine beckons to us
Whitman Cellars, first stop of the day
A glass of the smooth, full bodied "Narcissa", then a sip of wild and fun "Killer Cab"
"We will take a bottle of each"

We laugh and joke our way to Canoe Ridge
For a taste of the seductive nectar in a bottle
Ever famous "Reserve Merlot", a tantalizing sensation on our palate
The crisp, fruity taste of Chardonnay sends us on our way, evermore
Joyful and ahh....just a bit giddy from the day already

Just across the parking lot -- Amavi – the name means love and life
Something we ARE certain of today
Syrah, the deep smooth taste, the depth, the sensuous feel we get as we linger over the glass
Two bottles, "ok but the bag is getting heavy" as we saunter down the road
The Walla Walla Foundry is just ahead

Foundry Cellars, wine and art, one naturally goes with the other
Cabernet Sauvignon, a refreshingly, different take on this romantic varietal
Not as dark and deep as ones we've experienced today
But light and almost bright on our tongues
Another bottle added to our ever growing collection

We sit for a while at the Foundry, enjoying some cheese and crackers
Thoughtfully packed this morning, Living La Vida Loca, this is the life
The wine, the sunshine, and life are all beginning to make us spin
One more stop before the day is over

Bergevin Lane Vineyards,
The girls laugh as we lightly stumble in to the tasting room.
A taste of the playful "Calico Red"; as playful and as naughty as we are today.
We end our excursion with as glass of "Intuition", wine that is as full and robust as our day has been.
Two more bottles for the collection, time to sing and dance our way back to the car.

In the car, we giddily drive home, the sun is setting, and the smells of the vineyards linger on the dusk. The wobbly foal, a bit stronger that earlier, nuzzles his mother, dinner time has arrived, we realize the wine has left our bodies in need of food.

Ah, who wants to cook, let's see what's happening on a Saturday evening in Walla Walla.

A new Poem

It just all makes me wonder whats happening to our world. Is Faith Real???


The Greatest is Love

Darkness and despair surround our daily lives.
Wars and fighting, hope seems lost.
Faith and hope,
Values our world seems to have misplaced.
I cry as I see dying children, floods that have washed away all hope.
Faith, hope and Love,
Do they still exist?

I was once told that Faith, Hope, and Love are the
three greatest virtues to be had.
Of these three,
Love is the greatest.

Through your love,
I have found the Faith within me I thought was
once lost.
With Faith,
I begin to believe in the hope of our future.
With the Hope of what our future holds for us,
I have allowed myself to Love.

You have shown me that without Love,
there can be no faith.
Without Faith,
there can be no Hope.
Without hope,
there is no reason to love.

Children with wide wondering eyes,
The aftermath of destruction surrounds them. Yet in their eyes I see,
Faith, Hope, and Love
And the greatest is Love.