Emily's Page

Salut, Emily :-) Stp, parles-tu français ?

Il existe ce groupe: iPeace francophones.

Nous aimerons réunir les francophones de partout. Nous somme environ 300 membres, mais avec ta présence nous serons plus forts dans le chemin vers la Paix.

Sur notre groupe, tu peux trouver de bons amis et des gens toujours prêts à partager. Nous serons heureux que tu nous rejoignes.

Avant de publier, stp lire nos: petites normes. Tu es cordialement invité à te présenter et à participer en y partageant tes idées.

Merci et une embrassade depuis l'Espagne.

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Hi, Emily :-) Please, can you speak french?

There are this group: iPeace francophones.

We wants to meet all francophones over the world. At this moment we are around 300 members, but with your presence we will be stronger in the path to Peace.

In our group you can find good friends and supportive people always willing to share. We will be glad if you join us.

Please read our: little rules. You are cordially invited to present you and participate with your ideas.

Thanks and hugs from Spain.

Hi Emily, thank you for asking me to become your friend, I look forward to hearing from you soon.
Regards,
Linda

Rosary Reflection.
by james a. galgano

Cross-eyed crucifixion, her nails dearly cling
To the rotting wood like haunting memories
Which once displayed his near lifeless frame
In all its grandeur, yet unable to be a saviour
Within the confines of a hollowed out cathedral
Where dreamlike reflections
Plague my inner eye still
Of what might have been
In that church on kings park hill

We were on one of our many
Maternal driven novenas
Three young near unconscious children
One devoted, overtly pure and pious mother
Going through the routine devotions
For each station of the cross
We the reluctant choir
Reciting each sense of loss
Depicted on each statues face
Somehow sensing there was something
Ominous about to occur within these walls

From out of the confessionals shadows
A huge hulking mass covered in overcoat
And the smell of stagnant burgundy
Approached our transparent procession
Voices repeatedly echoing nearly
Indecipherable Latin refrains
As we dangled our rosaries
A portrait of a roman catholic
Chain gang hangs on my minds canvas still

As this giant moved upon us, fears crept
Out of our unsuspecting pores
His size became more monstrous
His actions more frighteningly defined
He grabbed our mother towards
His heaving inebriated stubble
And pawed over her anxiously
As we screamed and struck his knees
With our tiny fists, rosaries still dangling
The statues faces showed no emotion
There would be no miracle today

Father Ryan who had entered
To prepare for evening mass
Ran to our rescue, his lungs blaring
In English like Gideon’s victorious trumpet
His hands we had so often watched
Holding Christ’s body and blood aloft
Came crashing down upon
This mortal cipher s retreating frame
The echoes of the deity’s name
Filled the cathedrals mildew cavernous halls
As if Jesus were casting out
The merchants from an ancient temple

Though nearly a half a century
Separates me from that harrowing memory
In quiet moments it often returns
To reveal the tortured grimaces
Distorting our unsuspecting faces
Within its slow motion nightmarish waltz
Bearing ill will in each revelations misstep
Where we walk each station still
Dangling a rosary from our once tiny hands

emily

i hope this humble message
finds you in excellent health
and soaring happy spirit
i hope and pray each and every
of your dreams come true
and you find it in your heart
to allow me to become a friend of you
my thoughts and prayers
are forever with you and your loved ones
always

peace and love,
james