THE LONG WAIT FOR THE SUN (a spontaneous jotting on this sunny Tuesday May 1, 2018) It seemed like the cold weather would never end. The cold month of March ended and an equally cold April crept in surreptitiously. And the biting cold of Winter persisted, refusing to give way to Spring The sun would shine but the cold would persist, and the sun appeared to be "fake" We heard of "fake goods" and we heard of "fake news" but none accused the sun of being fake. Was it the sun or
It looks like it was yesterday No, it is actually only a new day And a new day entails a new beginning But it is not a new beginning. It is the rebirth of an old jewel. And the jewel was for a time in abeyance In abeyance waiting for a rebirth. And today the precious baby is reborn Our AAINC blog is back on air The jewel that was our baby restarts today. The AAINC blog is today back on air. And with the rebirth, we bring along, stories of joy.
24 HOURS AT MY COMMAND
Given 24 hours to do my wish, what would I do, where would I go?
Would I reach for the stars, to planet Mars or to the moon?
Would I fly to the North Pole, to the South Pole or to our own Alaska?
Would I beckon on the heavens to do my wish?
Would I delude myself to have the world at my command?
No, the world around me already has enough problems waiting to be solved
My immediate environment already has problems waiting to be addressed
WHAT I WAS TAUGHT I was taught that there was God I was taught that that God was all-seeing, I was taught that the all-seeing God was also all-knowing I was taught that there were angels in heaven And those angels were messengers of God I was taught that I had a guardian angel Every child my age also had a guardian angel And those angels were messengers of God And the angels followed us all day as our shadows I was taught that the angels reported to God And reports were made
WINTER AS A BLESSING The little African boy plays in the sand... He builds little cave houses with sand and mud covering his tiny feet. The doors to the houses emanate from the exit of his little feet
Scantily-clad or naked to the skin he finds his fun in little things.
The open air and the warmth of nature’s sun are taken for granted by all and sundry.
The scantily-clad little boy knows no spring, summer, fall or winter
The tranquility of the environment may not be count
WHAT I SEE It gives me the wrong impression that the morning has dawned Eve when it is still five in the morning, it appears as bright as seven It makes even ugly buildings appear decent It makes houses that have not been painted for decades glitter as new This white snow! It enhances the brightness of the moon Even when it is otherwise dull and gloomy it shines It disguises the dullness of winter on the roads It lessens the dread of quietness with all the folks indoors This
This much we pledge: We wish to sincerely thank all our friends at Facebook for liking our page, spreading our launch messages and celebrating a tremendous milestone with us! We truly hope that 2015 will be just the beginning of our long anticipated journey with all of you! Particular thanks go to Jeanne Claire Probst (Author of “The Fifteen Houses” series), Ophelia Elise West President/CEO of WinterTreeProductions, Inc. and designer of our widely admired website www.akamnon
NO JOY IN CHRISTMAS? There is no joy in Christmas, cynics will say. The stresses on the roads will spoil your day The stresses in your wallet will even be worse The trauma to your savings will tell the story The pressure on your psyche will give you the jitters You wonder where the joy really is as the day finally dawns The joy is a ruse and the flavor soon evaporates But there is joy in the air, even the blind can see The chorus is sweet even the deaf can hear There is joy i
THIS MUCH I BELIEVE AND MORE…. Another snowy day. It no longer bothers me. Indeed I am beginning to enjoy it. The flakes now appear so fluffy. And it seems to warm up as they come. How wonderful Mother Nature is. How consistent; how self-limiting. Can any guess how many billions of years it has been this way. And the sun and the stars persist in their cycles. And puny little man who 'struts and frets his hour upon the stage' would daily want to play God. The hand that shaped
Endless years: Its difficult to so believe It looks just like it was yesterday 2014 will soon be another year gone by 365 days are about to again roll by And we all will be one more year older even before we know it The old will be older and the young will not be younger The old and the young will be one year older Older in years that easily fret away What we call a year is like a mere evening gone And the life of man that is counted in years Reminds us that we have too littl