Heidi G karlsson

when the sun comes what i do and what it does mean very different things but what i'm wondering while i let light cover even smother me with rays as it plays in my skin even my deeper life within is how so little at thing means everything so i stand. wait. hesitate for minutes, maybe days soaking because when night comes i need more than moon and memory i need light and love present with me

People I am reminded when the sun wicked shines of smiles breaking through faces. not everything of what comes, goes remains, matters, counts, lasts, lingers. what are we but spirits and things that eternally seek, waft, and wander inside our bodies and belongings discovering tasting God exploring possibilities, pushing sight and sound, breaking down and feeling finding the end and there beginning again

The other day, I heard a grandfather speak of his grandson’s death with more honesty than ever I have heard. And it shocked me. He said, “My grandson, you know, he was not a good boy, he was a rebellious boy. He had a good heart, but he was rebellious.” It was a little bit hard to hear. I’m so used to hearing that we only lose the ones that the world is not worthy of. Amazing. I remember hearing a story about this family who’s son got into gangs and drugs. Mafia I guess. Eventually the son got killed. The police were familiar with him. He’d caused a lot of trouble to the community at large. But when he died, the family paid (or arranged for.. however it’s done) for a 2 page full write up of their son, stating how he was such a good boy and had lived such a good life. The next day a public outcry arose and letters flooded the newspaper, denouncing the man. Again, a full two page write up. But this time not so positive. Either his family was full of lies or they were unable to accept rea...