Heavenletters

Beloved is trying to make us think that there is love but there isn't such a thing.
When my darling slipped out of my arms into His I said a gentle good-by.
When we bowled her score was often as good as mine in our league of old people.
Well, you scream, If that isn't love, what do you call it?
What do you call it when a mother picks up her child and kisses it's tummy long and loud?
What do you call it when a teenager finds the lips of his darling for the first time?
We made up the word love to express the Breath of God blowing His essence through the Universe.
The chick pecking furiously to get out of the shell is but the breath of God blowing what HE IS into that little feathered thing.
We get the knack of enjoying HIS breath by simply trying to love our neighbor as ourself.
You can't do what you are but you can let more of it out. Call it anything, just don't let it have strings and it becomes HIM expressing being through us.
When you see a homeless man or woman as you drop money in their hat, blow on them the Breath of God.
We as a nation should be blowing on our new beautiful President every day.
Call it a salute, a gesture, a bit of respect but it all is the ONE thing, GOD'S BREATH going through you.

George whose pipes froze and broke last night. Whew! What a mess