Yonder (repost)

Ponder up yonder …
It’s a wonder to wander …
Life is a journey with a sack on your back,
Filled with good things and memories we stack.

Forget the bad; what good does it do?
Just weighs you down, takes up more room.

With pleasant memories, your bindle will fill.
A magnificent journey can be your will.
Finding more gems along the way.
Tossing the others like lumps of clay.

Let go of the bad, don’t bury it under …
Ponder up yonder, fill your wander with wonder….

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~ Yonder ~
E Lehman

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Lovers Sail

 Lovers meet
Like ~ clouds
Colliding
To Be

 Drifting together
~ A journey free ~

 Even if split into two
Part of them
Is still you
Evaporation
To dew
Love continues
Sailing the blue
~~~~~~~~~~
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Soul of a boy … Eyes of a man

I remember who I was as a child. Now I ask myself, Where did he go? Contemplation in silence has occupied the last three meditative days. I sat in the lush forest … amid whispers of wind, and wondered when I went astray. The child was wise with nature. He didn’t ask for answers, only found them while wandering landscapes. This child was not a child, only a young being marveling over the breath of nature, using his innate ability to see art not only in the typical forested settings, but also on everyday streets … where emotions of life can be witnessed on the faces of others; or how light writes a moment of time on a cityscape. See, in my mind then, I was a photographer, while friends were firemen and such boyhood dreams. I had my camera, given to me by an elder man who had answered my question of “What do I do with this?” with an all-knowing, little grin, from which came his reply of “You’ll see, boy. You will see.” Time has revealed the boy in me once again. Therefore, upon realizing that my life of dilettantism is coming into focus, I am content to settle on one, and answer the dreams of the boy no longer dormant inside: I was once a photographer in mind. Now is the time to be one in soul. My life has shifted that I may finesse the fleeting moments of light. My black-and-white purpose beckons to be fulfilled. Everything but study is put aside. Silence has become my friend once again. I will write with my lens, telling a story without my pen. The boy wanted to be an outstanding photographer. I am that boy … now reminded of a quote to live by: “Beautiful things don’t ask for attention.” And now I understand the words of the elder man. Yes, sir. I see. And one day they will see … black-and-white art from the soul of a boy, through the eyes of a man. One day.
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My Aries horoscope was helpful. “Life is too sweet for worry!”

“Your ride is super-smooth now, so just kick back and have fun, instead of anxiously watching out for the next big obstacle or slowdown you’re certain is about to hit you if you’re not vigilant. You don’t want to find yourself caught up in a self-fulfilling prophecy, right? Find some way to let go of your stress, even if you have to trick yourself into taking baby steps. Life is too sweet for worry!”
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–Astrology.com

Daring Greatly in Life (favorite quote for how I live)

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

— Theodore Roosevelt

ONEye Am

Attention Light Workers:

It is a supreme pleasure and an honor to be in your presence during this first Awakening Age. We will perform our duties to the highest of order. The history of Humanity will never be the same. “It began in the first quarter of the 21st century.” This will be the statement of history thousands of years from now. We are here. Let us represent the illustrious light that is our very essence.

–This volume was transcribed from the memory database of Source and the memory files of those entangled as One, cataloged in a singular lifetime of various human and light-being entities. These are their memories.

–The story you are about to read was transcribed from the SOLID STATE CRYSTAL MEMORY (SSCM) files of Elleria Eisen and Eckhart Namhel’s last Earth-Life experience and those entangled in memory with them. The journeys of the Federation of Light will continue. We will hand down the volumes as we transcribe the Memory Light Files and document the Ascension Federation from the beginning. We look forward to compiling the records throughout the Universe and delivering the stories.

This volume approved by Eckhart Namhel
Date:  04-15-2011 CE – Earth Time. Signed: Eckhart Namhel
Captain, Delta Light Ship EM III – M42 – Ascension Post Earth

☬ May Source be with Us – One – M42  ☬

SSCM—110011100001001—ORION NEBULA:

The purple pastel sky of Syringa washes through the windows of a country ranch house. Through the open, kitchen window, the housemother looks out to a stretching lilac garden, which soaks in a soft pink source from above, warmth enveloping the atmosphere. She had finished preparing her daily meal, and now washes the crystal dishes in the sweetness of flowered water while she stands in her long, flowered apron, stained with lavender smudges of fingerprints. Behind her, eight-year-old Ellie sits at the wooden table in a skirt dress, humming a lilting tune under her breath through a close-mouthed smile. A fork rocks between her fingers as she taps her plate, tilting her head to the right, then left, in time with the song dancing in her head. The housemother rubs a dish, dips her flower-stained hands … then looks out the window at a young, thin and healthy Eckhart the explorer. He is kneeling on the outer, whitewashed wooden porch, his bare knees showing a hint of pink chafing while they support his ten-year-old mission. He peers through a high-powered telescope, brown hair falling over his forehead.

The housemother, wiping her hands on a towel, turns to look at Ellie. “Eat your lilacs, Ellie,” she lovingly requests.

“But, Mom, I don’t want to,” Ellie’s sweet little voice says as she fiddles with the perfumed stack of violet fare. “They’re so pretty, I just can’t.”

“If you want to grow up to be pretty, then eat your lilacs.”

“I’m already pretty enough.” She tilts her head, regarding her plate. Eyelids flutter over twinkling blue gems while she picks a flower off her glass plate and brings it to her tiny nose with a gentle whiff, swinging her dainty legs above the wooden floor in amusement.

The housemother turns and requests out the window, “Ecky! Come eat please, it’s getting late!”

Eckhart takes his eyes off the telescope for a split second and looks back at the kitchen window, “Just a few more minutes, okay?” He turns back to the telescope to continue.

SSCM: 1010000010001111:

Peering through the lens, Eckhart whispers to himself, “This is the only time of day I can see Earth, between the first and second sun.”  He pulls back from the telescope and sits on his ankles while he looks up with the naked eye. “Someday, I’m gonna enlist for an Earth mission, yeah, gonna be a captain … someday.” He sighs … while peering through the cotton-candy sky….

SSCM: 01100101011111100010:

Two hundred and twelve years later, he is forty years into his third life, four decades of memory pulling his vision out the window as the sun wakes on the Denver horizon. You can force a man to the window, but you can’t make him think, Eckhart ponders with a grin, gazing at the floating particulates drifting on the filtered sunlight as he sits over his angled drafting table with one tooth-marked pencil between his teeth, another behind his ear. He knows he has earned his place on the 42nd floor–Eckhart Namhel, Luxury Design Architect: the proof stamped on his office door.

If it were not for his human colleagues, he would say his life is exemplary.

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©Erik S. Lehman 2015