On the Coke bottle.

There it sits,

among her most cherished,

possessions, a Coke bottle,

The president of Coca Cola,

produced a new formula,

for New Coke.

Tested unlabeled,

he had indeed,

improved it's flavor.

Released to world,

immediately was it hated,

by it's fans.

They had loved it.

for decades,

and would not tolerate,

this change.

Released then was it, again,

in its classic form.

He purchased this Classic Coke,

rebottled, by the Yazoo Bottling Company,

on that Mississippi Delta,

while serving, the good saints,

he longs for, now.

She knows, though little understood,

by the both of them, 

why it important, to him.

So she cares for this little bottle,

for decades now, as she cares for him,

for their children,

and the keepsakes from her childhood.

On the restoration of the family

My ancestors came not,

from foreign places,

to restore a priesthood,

or a church.

They came to restore a family, 

The House of Israel.

Men in foxholes fight,

for other men in foxholes

not for King, and country.

Adam and Eve experienced,

the first broken,

family.

My family crossed the ocean,

and the great plains,

to restore their ancestors.

So I will continue their work,

this day as i seek

to restore the family,

of God

Nora, Howard, and the barn

Nora and Howard met in the barn.

Howard's wife a farmhand,

not a housekeeper.

She preferred animal husbandry,

so housework was kept,

at a survival level.

Nora ask Howard,

why are we meeting in the barn?

Nora, you have seen my barn.

Yes.

You have seen my house.

Yes.

Then why are we meeting in the barn?

Yes, I see,

then said Nora.

"Not While I'm Around"

"Not while I'm around
Nothing's gonna harm you
No sir, not while I'm around"

He often confused, them,

the three, of them.

The mother, the nanny, and the spouse.

In his mind, they are the Trinity,

the Holy Trinity.

One gave him life,

one gave him love,

and one gave him the world.

Remove any leg of the stool,

and his life would spin apart.

He battled with the first,

for years, in an eternal embrace.

The second carried him, for years,

while he learned to trust the world.

The final became the base,

for the remainder of his life.

Did he protect them,

or did they nurture him?

This then the question,

in his mind,

today.

"Not While I am Around"

Stephen Sondheim, Sweeney Todd

Not While I'm Around

Momma, Nanny, and the dishes

His nanny often told him,

of the argument, 

long before she became,

the nanny.

They argued, often,

over the dishes.

Dating father, momma was,

coming over then was Lynn.

This continual argument,

over the dishes.

So tired, of the argument,

between the sisters,

over the dishes,

was Gramma, this day.

Just do the dishes Nance,

Grandma begged.

Grandma had a hard day,

cleaning rooms at the motel,

still too many mouths 

to feed this day.

Experience had taught Grandma,

speaking with Voyle, would not,

bring an end, to the argument.

For just this time of peace,

would the nanny just do the dishes,

to bring some rest,

to the family, this day?

I Nephi

"Having been born of goodly parents",
"I will go and do the things", ...

In my youth, 
I learned, of these scriptures. 

Now I am reminded, that the thing Nephi did,
was to take the life of a drunk, 
for the Torah, and A Book of Remembrance. 

I have done hard things.

Pray for the redemption of a family,
deeply mired in sin and corruption.

Served a mission among people, who desired not, 
what I had to share. 

Find a woman to share my life,
who held a temple recommend,
and honored my parents.

Paid a handmaiden, twice, 
to have an abortion, not.
So then, I could father a child.

Spend years visiting, a beloved one,
in a locked-down facility,
to remind him he was more,
than his crime. 

Find a gardener to plant,
a crop to preserve life,
of the one I adore.

Spend years living with a man,
and visiting my wife,
when he had no use for me, till I was nine.

I can and have done hard things,
Nephi did hard things,
you too can do hard things.

This I know, you can.

1 Nephi 1:1

1 Nephi 3:7

The Byington Brothers Bar Fight

This is the story, my uncle told me,
as I grew into a man.

On Saturday night,
I could be found,
at his dinner table,
playing cards, or a game of Risk.

After the game was over,
deep into the night,
he would tell me, the family lies.

Not sure how much of the story, was true,
and how much of the story was a myth,
designed to lead me into, manhood. 

The Byington brothers,
grew into manhood, in a one-room cabin,
In Winder Idaho, at the top of the West Cache Canel.

Growing up without a momma
can leave one cold and hard,
but also resilient and independent. 

On Saturday night, the Byngton brothers could be found,
sitting at a bar, quarreling amongst themselves. 

Perhaps it was The Bloody Bucket.

In those days, music was played,
on a Nicolodian, jukebox,
a song would be selected,
then a nickel was inserted. 

If a fresh nickel was inserted, before the end of play,
a new song replaced the current one.

One lady tried continually, to listen to her song.

Another patron, thereafter inserted his nickel,
ending her music selection.

One of the brothers warned the patron,
this action did not please him,
and the next time it happened,
he would clean his clock.

The patron headed not, this warning,
as the Byington brothers were then,
quarreling, at the bar, amongst themselves. 

So when the patron, failed to heed his warning,
the Byington brothers proceeded to clean his clock,
they then returned to the bar,
and continued quarreling amonst themselves.

So what was the point, of the story?

Family is family, and remains undivided,
to those outside the family, circle. 

It is okay, to quarrel with your brother,
but we must stand united, to defend the family,
from the outside. 

on momma's lilac bushes

I noticed them, today.

In returning,

From the yearly trip,

To clean the graves.

Growing they were, in front,

Of the home, where we raised,

The babies.

Momma's lilac bushes.

My wife and son,

Care for them now.

Once they stood, as a divider,

Between my Dad, and Mrs. Shiffman.

Yearly, Dad, would trim then back,

Partly, to clear the drive,

and partly to anger, the neighbor, lady.

The bush once stood,

as a point of division.

Now it stands as a symbol of union,

As my wife and son, together,

Nurture, momma's Lilac Bush.

On cleaning the graves

Why do they come?

Year, after year, after year,
they come.

These are graves, of people,
in life, they knew not, of ...

The deaths coming, years,
before their birth

They carry no memories, 
of sickness, weddings, or funerals.

No memories of the babies.

They mourn then not, from memories, of youth.

Like salmon, returning to spawn,
they return yearly, to clean the graves

To reward the children, they will return,
year, after year, after year, 
to Donnetta Hot Springs, to take a swim.

Donnetta was once owned by the family,
it is where they scalded pigs,
after the yearly slaughter.

They bring their memories,
of their grandmothers and grandfathers,
aunts, uncles, and cousins,

And their babies.

Year, after year, after year,
I bring my memories,
Of swimming, and picnics,
and meals being prepared,
and running with cousins,
and games of tackle football. 

I go there to recover lost memories,
it is one of the rare places,
on Earth, I felt nurtured, by Momma.

So year, after year, after year,
I shall return, to relive those memories
as I return home, to create new memories,
for my, babies. 

Between the urine and the feces

Anatomical it is correct,
the birth canal, being lodged between,

the Urethra and the Anus.

We come forth in the struggle.

We live in struggle,

We die in the struggle.

After the struggle to be free,

from our mom's birth canal,

we struggle to return,

to that of our mate.

The need to return is so strong,

that men will work for decades,

to form an intimate connection with a mate. 

Cleopatra used it to control an empire,

through a man.

Like all great powers, it can be used,

for good and evil.

With the first act, comes oxytocin,

the bonding of the male and female,

as one unit.

I became forever bonded,

with my mate, after this first act.

Even after decades of married,

heterosexual celibacy,

it is my first thought at rising,

and my last thought on ending the day.

My nannies in-laws kept a stool,

in the kitchen dedicated to the late-night,

performance of this task.

My first bonding came at a request, 

from my mate, to help her,

to make a baby.

I failed in that, task.

The hope is that you will use,

this incredible power,

to create life,

and to bond with your eternal mate,

as you raise your babies.   

Brutus speech

There is a tide in the affairs of men

Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;

Omitted, all the voyage of their life

Is bound in shallows and in miseries.

On such a full sea are we now afloat;

And we must take the current when it serves,

Or lose our ventures.”

on being a rose, in Grants Ward

To survive a season,

In Grants Ward,

Hardy must one be.

The winters are harsh,

And cold.

Water enough, never,  their is.

In the winter, 

there is an abundance,

Of sleek and snow.

This is a time of storage,

When the roots need drive, deep,

Knowing summer is coming,

And the moisture,

Comes not again,

Until fall.

In spring the family comes,

To clean and service,

The graves.

They trowel around these roots,

I have carefully, driven, deep,

In the ground.

They uncover the headstone,

To remark the graves,

By rounding up the Earth,

As there mama and papa,

Taught them to do,

So long ago.

They leave me then,

to  watch over and adorn,

These graves.

Rarely do they come again,

In this year.

In the later spring,

They come not, to see,

my small roses,

that I create, then, 

to decorate, the graves.

As long as I am able,

I will continue to monitor,

And adorn these graves,

They have so lovingly, served,

These many years.

On being my son, almost

He was my son, then,
almost.

He was the first son,
of my heart,
of my life,
of my soul.

The first sibling was he, naught.

The first sibling had been given,
as a gift to another family. 

I learned of his life,
long after the gift had been given.

He was offered as a gift,
to my wife.

Being single with no committed, prospect,
this gift had been declined. 

Shortly after our marriage, I learned,
of personal infertility.

Then shortly after that, came the birth,
of the second son.

He would have been our gift,
but Grandpa loved him first.

To accept this gift,
would be to end,
the life of a man, I adored.

So I watched this son, from afar.

Seeking then, every chance,
to continue to bless his life,
I revered him, from afar. 

In his youth, many troubles, he experienced.

Some troubles require the intervention of a judge,
for many years, we visited him, in a secure facility. 

This facility offered him choice and growth.

With this change, he experienced new joy
and deepened his relationships with his siblings.

Many years have passed and think,
I still, of this son.

Even in his death, I see hope and joy.

Our daughter has named her son,
in honor of his memory.

I hope they meet again someday,
and my grandson sees the joy,
I feel in the memory,
of the first son, of my heart.

On Being Patricius

Patricius,
Fifth century, Romano-British missionary.

Not born a slave,
born a grandson of a Christian Bishop.

Born free and then enslaved,
captured by Irish raiders,
taken, to care for sheep.

Escaped, six years later, no longer,
a slave.

Returns again, to his beloved Ireland,
there to serve the remainder of his days.

With him, comes Christianity,
knowledge, and learning. 

One generation, or two,
out of Paganism and human sacrifice. 

He instills a love in them,
a love of literature, art, and learning,
then a desire to serve, all mankind.

They begin to capture and copy books,
as they arrive in Ireland, 
and build vast libraries, from the skins,
of the sheep Patricus tended,
as a youth.

With the destruction of Western Roman Civilization,
and their libraries, the Irish Pagans, now Christian missionaries,
are then prepared to restore, this learning and knowledge,
to the world.

This, then, is a marvelous work,
it begins, among men

"Therefore, behold, I will proceed to do a marvelous work among this people, even a marvelous work and a wonder: for the wisdom of their wise men shall perish, and the understanding of their prudent men shall be hid." Isiah 29:14

on making a baby

I failed the first request,

To help her make a baby.

on our second night together,

as a couple.

The first night had been, 

a pajama night.

I was aware, 

before we wed,

she had an infertility issue.

Many more times, we sought,

and failed to create a baby,

together.

We were not aware of my,

infertility issue.

We would discover this fact,

after six more months,

together.

Together we have been, now,

for three decades.

We have raised two babies,

together.

The gift from the handmaiden,

who loved us four.

Together, with her parents,

we raised two more, babies.

Together as one family unit.

Now we help our daughter and son,

to raise one more baby,

a gift to us all. 

May you enjoy your gift,

of the babies.

If God or the handmaiden,

to you, have not provided such a gift.

I hope you discover joy,

in helping other parents,

to raise their babies.

in his perfection

Be ye therefore perfect

Was this then not 

the commandment?

My one year old grandson

Is perfect.

He crawls perfectly.

He eats perfectly.

He nurses perfectly.

Today at dinner 

he ate ketchup perfectly,

By the handful.

He empties his mouth perfectly

Like his grandmother instructs him too

If he wants down from the table

Spit out on the high chair table,

With mischievous look on his face.

I hope my Eternal Parents

see my perfection,

in the same way, 

As I struggle to be like them,

As my grandson struggles,

Tobe, like me.

she held him to her breast

What then, 

of the human, 

breast?

She reminded him,

then, of it's proper use,

and function.

Once long ago ago,

he had seen his momma,

reduced to tears,

at her inability,

to nurse a child,

properly.

Now his offspring,

nourishes her offspring,

in a way his momma could not,

that day.

Gently, modestly, she,

holds him to her breast.

Guiding his lips, 

to fulfill a need,

this day.

What then remains

What warmth do we leave,
to the others, this day?

When all that remains,

are memories this, day?

Then muses he oft, of the one, 

who rekindled, the flame, 

within her that day.

His future companion,

desired, to share God's love, 

for the people, that day.

Learned, she then, 

not worthy, to serve, 

was she judged, that day?

Thus was warmth, and light,

diminished, that day.

Then a minister, new,

was called, to lead his people,

that day.

Rekindles, he then

the light and desire, 

to share gods love,

for the people, this day.

This light then continues, 

to warm, the others,  this day.

Thus remains, the shared light,

he rekindled that day.

On his death

There he lay,

cold, but warm still.

Does the spirit linger,

as bodies warmth, lingers,

still.

He departed the world,

and his once warm body,

as his son was in,

the nearby room.

The son performed his daily, tasks.

Helping bank customers,

on the phone, who,

we're experiencing,

the worst day of their life.

60 times a day the son,

helped a customer who life savings,

had been taken.

They needed a new debit card,

or an address updated,

or who could not access,

their online balance.

Then departed he, then,

while others waited,

for his son to help,

and comfort them.

Did his spirit then linger, still

as the warmth of his body,

lingered, still?

His son desired not this day,

then.

The diapers to change.

The urinal to empty.

The medicine every four hours,

to administer.

To ask help of the ward members,

The President of the Elders, replied,

was too much to ask.

Thus were they together, 

in this, task, this day,

trapped, though the end be near.

The relief then comes,

from the nurse, medication,

morphine, 

like a gift from God,

to ease the transition,

to his next stage.

Does he leave this life,

then comforted, 

to know his son,

loved him, still?

What then of the Angel in the Garden?

What use could an angel be to him? 
Then here, in the Garden.

Remove not the pain, could he now.
Carry not the burden, could he then.

Strengthen the Savior?
Maybe.

Once in literature, another came,
to strengthen, a chosen one.
though in story, and myth,
yet a lesson to contrast,
still.

On a hero's journey,
Frodo had been sent,
to cast the ring into Mount Doom.

In the end, his strength failed him,
at his faithful side was Samwise Gamgee.
Carry not the burden could Samwise, 
but carry Mr. Frodo then could he.

Some speculate that the Angel was Michael.
to remind him of his Eternal Parents, 
faith and confidence in his ability,
to carry this load. 

If it is Micheal, 
then remember not that Michael,
became Adam, whose spouse,
had helped him choose the better path. 

The two, the angel and the Christ,
completing one Eternal Round,
a circular path to then lead.

The second creations,
to return the boon,
on their Heroes' Journey. 

On Poetry and Rhetoric (Yeats)

 We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry. Unlike the rhetoricians, who get a confident voice from remembering the crowd they have won or may win, we sing amid our uncertainty; and, smitten even in the presence of the most high beauty by the knowledge of our solitude, our rhythm shudders. I think, too, that no fine poet, no matter how disordered his life, has ever, even in his mere life, had pleasure for his end. Johnson and Dowson, friends of my youth, were dissipated men, the one a drunkard, the other a drunkard and mad about women, and yet they had the gravity of men who had found life out and were awakening from the dream; and both, one in life and art and one in art and less in life, had a continual

[Pg 30] preoccupation with religion. Nor has any poet I have read of or heard of or met with been a sentimentalist. The other self, the anti-self or the antithetical self, as one may choose to name it, comes but to those who are no longer deceived, whose passion is reality. The sentimentalists are practical men who believe in money, in position, in a marriage bell, and whose understanding of happiness is to be so busy whether at work or at play, that all is forgotten but the momentary aim. They find their pleasure in a cup that is filled from Lethe’s wharf, and for the awakening, for the vision, for the revelation of reality, tradition offers us a different word—ecstasy. An old artist wrote to me of his wanderings by the quays of New York, and how he found there a woman nursing a sick child, and drew her story from her. She spoke, too, of other children who had died: a long tragic[Pg 31] story. “I wanted to paint her,” he wrote, “if I denied myself any of the pain I could not believe in my own ecstasy.” We must not make a false faith by hiding from our thoughts the causes of doubt, for faith is the highest achievement of the human intellect, the only gift man can make to God, and therefore it must be offered in sincerity. Neither must we create, by hiding ugliness, a false beauty as our offering to the world. He only can create the greatest imaginable beauty who has endured all imaginable pangs, for only when we have seen and foreseen what we dread shall we be rewarded by that dazzling unforeseen wing-footed wanderer. We could not find him if he were not in some sense of our being and yet of our being but as water with fire, a noise with silence. He is of all things not impossible the most difficult, for that only which comes easily can[Pg 32] never be a portion of our being, “Soon got, soon gone,” as the proverb says. I shall find the dark grow luminous, the void fruitful when I understand I have nothing, that the ringers in the tower have appointed for the hymen of the soul a passing bell.

Per Amica Silentia Lunae, by William Butler Yeats

By Friendly Silence of the Moon

Both Sides Now

Rows and flows of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere
Looked at clouds that way

But now they only block the sun
They rain and they snow on everyone
So many things I would have done
But clouds got in my way

I've looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down and still somehow
It's cloud illusions I recall
I really don't know clouds at all

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels
The dizzy dancing way that you feel
As every fairy tale comes real
I've looked at love that way

But now it's just another show
And you leave 'em laughing when you go
And if you care, don't let them know
Don't give yourself away

I've looked at love from both sides now
From give and take and still somehow
It's love's illusions that I recall
I really don't know love
Really don't know love at all

Tears and fears and feeling proud
To say, "I love you" right out loud
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds
I've looked at life that way

Oh, but now old friends they're acting strange
And they shake their heads and they tell me that I've changed
Well something's lost, but something's gained
In living every day

I've looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all

It's life's illusions that I recall
I really don't know life
I really don't know life at all

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Joni Mitchell

DREAMS

Martha

Cleaning House

After the last child left

Finds her favorite biology text

And blows the dust from the dream

She grew up with.

Is four-eight too old

To enroll in veterinarian school?

And Georgia

Down the street

Home from board meeting

With a pile of papers

Wryly smiles

As she pulls from the closet

The oak cradle

She had intended for something

Other than overflow

For her most important files

Carol Lynn Pearson

(Woman I Have Know & Been (1992)

 

on his sterility

When did he, God,

First discover it, 

The young one's, sterility.

Was it at his conception,

nestled their was he,

in his mother's womb?

Or you was it when the gonads, 

First formed near his heart.

In the male form,

They begin to form,

There in embryo.

They later drop,

To the present place,

Between the legs.

Did God then begin,

To hatch a plan,

To help rescue the babies.

It may have begun early,

The gently nudge, 

along the path.

First came the nanny,

Nance was mom's twin sister.

Though they came,

18 months apart.

They often appeared, 

to have the same soul.

Like two sides,

Of the same coin.

Momma and Nance,

first shared a bedroom,

then later they shared,

the babies.

His momma could make babies,

Nance loved to raise them.

He and the nanny,

Always together were they,

those first three years,

It was not a good thing.

In those days, 

tobe an unwed mom,

Still, the foundation of love and support,

she instilled in him.

This enables his bond,

with his wife and children.

Later their were summer's together,

and family reunion's too.

As a teenager he wondered, 

how he would feel,

about an infertile wife, 

like Nance.

The woman's infertility, 

would not alter his choice .

This discovering, 

his own infertility,

completed things.

He thought it better 

When they married,

to share this burden.

Then extend it not 

to another couple,

leaving two families, infertile.

When it became time, 

to rescue the babies, 

he was prepared well.

His wife and babies,

continue to bless his life.

He has become grateful,

for his infertility.

Tychbornes Elegie

Tychbornes Elegie, written with his owne hand in the Tower before his execution

My prime of youth is but a frost of cares,
My feast of joy is but a dish of paine,
My Crop of corne is but a field of tares,
And al my good is but vaine hope of gaine.
The day is past, and yet I saw no sunne,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

My tale was heard, and yet it was not told,

My fruite is falne, & yet my leaves are greene:
My youth is spent, and yet I am not old,
I saw the world, and yet I was not seene.
My thred is cut, and yet it is not spunne,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

I sought my death, and found it in my wombe,
I lookt for life, and saw it was a shade:
I trod the earth, and knew it was my Tombe,
And now I die, and now I was but made.
My glasse is full, and now my glasse is runne,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

Thy prime of youth is frozen with thy faults,
Thy feast of joy is finisht with thy fall:
Thy crop of corne is tares availing naughts,
Thy good God knowes, thy hope, thy hap and all.
Short were thy daies, and shadowed was thy sun,
T'obscure thy light unluckelie begun.

Time trieth trueth, & trueth hath treason tript,
Thy faith bare fruit as thou hadst faithless beene:
Thy ill spent youth thine after yeares hath nipt,
And God that saw thee hath preserved our Queen,
Her thred still holds, thine perisht though unspun,
And she shall live when traitors lives are done.

Thou soughtest thy death, and found it in desert,
Thou look'dst for life, yet lewdlie forc'd it fade:
Thou trodst the earth, and now in earth thou art,
As men may wish thou never hadst beene made.
Thy glorie and thy glasse are timeles runne,
And this, O Tychborne, hath thy treason done.

poem-of-the-week-chidiock-tichborne

on a longing for, Vicksburg

Why is he longing, for Vicksburg?
He dreams of her nightly, now. 

From whence comes, this desire?
Why the craving?
Why the need?
What did he leave behind, in Vicksburg? 

The last visit, was so long, ago.
He left with the one,
With whom he had danced,
For so many years. 

She had been his final companion,
assigned by his mission president,
to watch over and protect him,
on their journey home. 

21 years before that day,
she had been assigned, the same task,
by her Eternal Father. 

They had battled for so many years,
to build a lasting Eternal Relationship.

Here on the Battlefields of Vicksburg,
they began the process,
of leaving behind the old dance,
and starting a new one,
as they sought to forgive,
and be forgiven. 

She has been gone,
for a decade, now. 

He has just completed a journey
with her Eternal Companion,
and provided him with a good death,
with the assistance of his,
Eternal Companion. 

Maybe the longing, for Vicksburg,
is craving a new Eternal Dance,
with his Eternal Companion,
and a desire to reunite with, 
his Eternal Companion and their Parents.

Once more.

Thoughts on the Restoration of his church

 

1. Christ has prepared a place for me. John 14:1-3

1. In the introduction to Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis offers this lovely image of the entrance hall to a church where we can meet to find a room we are most comfortable belonging to.  He invites us to treat each other equally no matter what room/sect we have selected, I feel an open invitation from Christ through Lewis to treat all my siblings equally as I seek to find the sect/room I am most comfortable spending eternity in. 
1. C.S.. Lewis "Mere ChristianityLinks to an external site.

As I have grown older and desired to universalize my faith I saught a great deal of Holy Envy.  I have known since I was a youth of 14 years of age that Joseph was chosen to restore the church.  But for a church to be restored it must preexist Joseph's time.   Elder John Taylor taught that there were many good and righteous men and women who lived during the apostasy and they guided and supported his church.  

John Taylor, on ancient men and the light they offered

When I was fourteen and learning church history.  I desired to seek out and find the pre-restoration prophets. Joseph Smith's maternal grandfather was a prophet who received a vision and printed a flyer of that vision. 

I knew that God must speak to other men and that he must have begun the preparation for the restoration early.  I love to study the Reformation, especially the English Reformation.  The English reformation began anew under William Tyndale and was almost completed under Henry viii.  Henry was not so much a protestant as an English Catholic. 

One of myfavorite Puritan prophets was John Milton  He was one of the rare Puritans who was not a Calvinist. I have spent decades studying his life and his works.  I love his epic poem Paradise Lost. As I study the Puritan prophets I am more convinced that God the Father reveals himself to all men and women who desire to learn of him. That is why I am so strengthened in my desire to possess holy envy. 

Let me leave you with one more reference the seldom read preface to The Great Bible an early precursor to the King James Bible and the one Henry viii commanded to be the English Bible read to his English Catholic subjects. 

Thomas Cranmer's Preface to the Great Bible

on his Ruminations

Why does he ruminate then,
on it, his testimony.

Cows are ruminates.
They eat their food more than once.

Grass is difficult to digest.
It must be eaten twice.

Once it is taken from the ground,
and stored in a pouch. 

After it has settled for a while,
it is regurgitated and then digested again.

Is a testimony like this too.

Must we take it in, first,
Let it prepare our minds.

Do we then regurgitate it,
and consume aknew.

Then when it becomes daily practice,
Are we ingesting it again?

I know I must think of my testimony many times
and learn to feed it and use and consume it again.

Then when I share it I begin to bless those who I love
with my works.

On life's cycles

What then of the little children?
Are they then not, such a blessing?

Sometimes I wondered,
when my daughter was,
a teen and angry.

If we could ever have the relationship,
we had when she was three.

For nearly a decade she would not even,
ride in a car with me, she was so angry.

Now she has her own little one.
and I see the cycle begin anew.

In a decade or more she may experience,
the same heartache and pain,
but for now, she has peace and joy,

Odin offers her. 

On the sign or signpost of the times.

Then does he look back for a sign, 
or forward for a signpost?

Many have looked forward to a sign,
and missed the post.

C.S. Lewis says the signs only come,
in the beginning.

As one matures in his growth,
the signs spread out,
and then disappear.

By the time they are gone,
you fail to notice anymore.

The signs then are like fig tree buds,
in spring, they are a sign of the time,
but they are not the end time,
or the final fruits.

The final chapter of C.S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy.

on the anguish of the devils

Thus they spoke in anger,
or was it in frustration,
the devils who had rebelled,
in the beginning.

They still maintained their, knowledge
sure knowledge, they had been there,
in the beginning, until being cast out.

This rebellion was it worth the cost, to be paid?
it cost them their brightness and their shared glory. 

Brightness can only be maintained,
in nearness to the Father,
and his reflected light. 

The second creations,
fell not less, from lack of knowledge,
but from experience and freedom of the will. 

They then learn to turn back toward the Father,
They then resubmit their will to the Father,
and then receive redemption from the Son.

As I, one of the second creations will I learn,
to resubmit my will to the Father, and receive redemption?

I want to remain in his presence and then bask in his warmth.
Thus sharing and receiving his Glory as I submit
to him, and become like him, a knew. 

See Paradise Lost Book, Book III, John Milton

What then of the Devils?

For what then of the devils?

Do they not then recognize him,
as the Son of God.

They then have a sure knowledge of his Mission
and of his works. 

What then does this knowledge then gain them.

What knowledge and additional incite,
do then they gain,
from experience.

They are so wrapped up in hate,
and envy, and in strife.

So jealous of him, were they, then.

This then to be ejected from the Father’s presence,
for a refusal to submit,
to submit their will to the will of the Father. 

Lucifer claimed to know, not, a time when he was not.

When he was not sovereign over his own spirit and will. 

His refusal to submit cost him so much,
though he retained his knowledge
and early experiences.

He began to lose his reflected light,
the reflected light of God the Father,
as the moon loses its light as she moves further away from the Sun.

I desire not to lose my reflected light,
so I move closer to the Father and feel his warmth
and reflected light as I learn to submit my will,
to the will of the Father.

What he gained then

 What does he then learn,
on this, the morning after?

This thing he now comes,
to understand, a knew,
this, then, this time.

Gethsemane had always been plan A,
not a contingency, not plan B,
but plan A.

He and the Father had studied it,
and discussed it, and approved it. 

This the plan then,
how to rescue the second,
creations.

The first had rebelled,
had been cast out,
before their bodies,
they had received.

Their choice than to follow,
Lucifer, The Son of the Morning.
The Heavens mourned their loss,
at his rebellion.

To know a thing,
is not to understand a thing.
This then to know, 

This thing he must now, experience,
to better understand,
to better become their advocate,
with the Father.

This then new experience,
is like, the experience,
of new Fatherhood.

One can study and understand,
the process, but to receive, then a child,
and then to raise a child,
this, then offers a new level, of understanding.

What then does he now, understand,
on the morning after, Gethsemane.

The Father,
had separated himself, not
than ever, from the Son.

This, then new experience,
This, then new death,
this we label, Spiritual Death.

Spiritual Death,
requires separation,
from the Father.

The Son had never sinned.
had never chosen, his ways,
over his Father's ways.

Or to say again,
the Father's ways were always,
his ways. 

These ways, then,
one and the same,
were they, always.

The Father and Son,
always, of one mind,
and one soul.

How then does the Father,
separate himself,
from the Son?

What corner of the Universe,
can he then go to,
to then be apart,
and no longer be, one soul,
with the Son.

That the Son may now experience,
Spiritual Death?

To better advocate for,
their new Creations.
To redeem now, their new,
Creations.

This thing, then he learned,
then, here this day.
The pain of separation,
of guilt and shame.

Freedom, or free will,
was always going to require,
The possibility of the choice,
other than the Fathers choice,

This then we label,
the Fathers will.

With these choices, by the new creation,
they would then learn to be more,
like the Father and the Son.

This then to learn to rejoice,
to regret the consequences of,
these new choices. 

Turning back towards the Father,
they would then, learn,
to  resubmit their will,
to the Fathers will,
their ways becoming, aknew,
the Father's ways, again.

This then always learning,
that the Father's choices would then become,
their choices, the remainder of the Eternities.

The Son now understanding their choice,
from his experiences, on Earth, and in the Garden.

This then new knowledge and experience,
and then to take upon himself,
the full price, and penalty of sin,
or separation from God The Father.

Then becoming their, advocate with the Father.

 

Steven Lynn Bassett

Born July 6, 1965

Logan Cache County Utah

Bonnie Jean Frandsen

Born May 5, 1960

Brigham City Box Elder County Utah

Married

January 6, 1990

Logan City, Cache County Utah

Logan L.D.S Temple

 

 

 

 

 

 

It began with a gentle nibbling on her ear.

This is the first line of a poem I wrote several years ago for my communications class at Brigham Young University – Idaho. It is about the first time I made love to my wife. It was on our second day of marriage; she asked me to help her make a baby.  The first day had been a long a tiring day. Bonnie had to plan and prepare her own wedding reception.  After the wedding, we cleaned up the church cultural hall, so that first night together had been a pajama night. She will forever remain the only woman to make that request.

I ask myself this question at work.  What is a marriage if it is not about companionship and not about sex? Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy sex as much as the next man and the desire to participate in it has never left me, but my wife lost the desire for sex, decades ago. I don’t know if it is because of early menopause brought on by the hysterectomy, the way I treated her early in our marriage, or just the physical fact that I am too fat for sex to be comfortable for me. The fact remains that I have remained forever attracted to her and have a desire to bless her life in whatever relationship I can maintain between us. Sometimes, this can be difficult because, after 30 minutes with her, I need to find something else to capture my attention as our interests are so divergent.

A couple of years ago, I wrote an essay, that on the surface, seemed to say my wife was not my best friend but that my sister was my best friend.  My wife and I share a best friend.  It is my younger sister Debra.  Years ago, my wife recommended that if I wanted to see a movie or go do something socially that I should take my sister. I have more fun on a date with my sister than I do with my wife. My wife knows there is no physical attraction with my sister; we have similar interests and enjoy doing the same things. There is no fear that I will begin an affair with my sister.  Neither my sister nor I desire that sort of relationship; we just enjoy doing the same things socially. Many times, when we were first married, I would take Debra and her husband on double dates so I would have someone to talk to during dinner.

But if you read between the lines of that essay, you see that Bonnie is my best friend, not because we have similar interests or because we enjoy doing the same things.  Bonnie has dedicated herself to providing me with a good life, a clean home, and two children. For two decades, she was always home when I arrived home. Bonnie knew I hated coming home to an empty house. On those rare occasions when she could not be home, she would send me on an errand or ask me to wait for her at someone’s home until she could be home with me.  Bonnie may have only done this on a dozen occasions in those twenty years.

I remember the story of the little boy who, on coming home, runs into the house to find his mother.  Once he has located her, he can go outside to play or start his chores. That is the way I felt about coming home.  I would look for my wife.  I needed to know where she was because she is the base I built my life upon.

When she discovered I was infertile, we attended some adoption classes at L.D.S. Social Services. When that did not work out, she hatched a play with her younger sister to provide us with a child. Without Bonnie, I would not have received a child; I may never have become a father without Bonnie and Nancy.

I always wanted to be a father and husband. In my teens, I began a study of early L.D.S. Church history. I was reading the 7-volume history of Joseph Smith and his restoration of the Church. It is the one edited by B.H. Roberts. I would read and journal about my experience every night. My ninth-grade teacher was teaching me to write simple one-page essays.  I would write these essays and write letters to my future wife and children.

My mom taught me from an early age about the castle on the hill in the center of town. It was a temple, built by my grandfathers, where she had knelt at an altar and promised to be my mom for all eternity.  She said because of that promise; we would be a family for all eternity.

I wanted to find a woman who would make these same promises with me at the same temple alters.

I would write and journal about what this woman would be like, and I questioned how I would find her and know her when I met her.

In my Church, we are asked not to date or court women until we turn 16; even then, we are asked to court in groups. This often includes dances and combined activities with the young women in the Ward. The first girl I dated one on one with was Linda Bullard. We had been friends when she was younger and lived next to my grandma Bassett. I lost track of her when she moved away at about ten. We met again when she was 14. This was at my bishop's house, a friend of her foster parents. She invited me to their home for Thanksgiving. This never worked out because she was too young to court.

The next girl I courted, I met on a Logan High Orchestra trip. We attended a competition in San Diego, California.  She made me lunch in her motel room.  I fell asleep afterward while watching television. This is not a great way to begin a courtship.  I was attracted to several of the orchestra girls, but none of them developed into anything more than admiration from afar.

When I was serving as Mission Recorder in the Mission Office, I learned that Terri Sue Allen was going on a mission to Austria. She was a year older than me in High School. I could start courting her after our missions. She was one of the girls I was attracted to in High School. I visited her several time on Sunday evening, and I even took her on a few dates, but she was not interested in anything more. This infatuation lasted several years. After I gave up on starting this relationship, I discovered Bonnie.

When I was 23, my roommate challenged me to get married next year. I was not dating anyone at the time. He said I could set a goal and then pray about it. This I decided to do.

I noticed a young lady in our young adult ward who had a small child. She was a bit of a wild child seeking to change her life. Her name was Cindy. I am not sure she was a baptized member of the Ward. Once, she came dressed in a dog collar when we went out. One time we went to a local bar to listen to a band.  The band was led by a friend from high school, Aaron Baugh.  It may seem weird to go to a bar and not drink just to listen to a band, but that is what we did. Thankfully I realized this relationship was not the kind of relationship I needed to get married in the temple.

I was introduced to another young lady by a member of our young adult ward.  Ginger Bright and I went out a few times; she may have been my first steady girlfriend. She asked me to stop dating her because she had been raped and could never make anyone a good wife. I was grateful that she broke things off.  The thought of waking up every morning and seeing her in bed was not pleasant.

One day my date began bugging me about a girl from his work. He said she was a return missionary and needed a good boyfriend. I was not interested in asking her out. I have learned from experience that the only way I could get him to leave me alone was to ask her out at least once. He made it seem like he had talked to her, and she wanted to go out with me.

I was working part-time at a Television Repair shop.  I had dropped out of college because my grades were terrible. One day she brought her television in for repair. She arrived in her sisters' car with her mom and her sisters' children.  I thought they looked like the Beverly Hillbillies. I called her up one day at work.  Her mom answered the phone, and I asked to speak with Bonnie.  No, the television was not repaired but would she go swimming with me that weekend.  The Young adult ward had an activity at a Hot Springs in Preston, Idaho.  I think she went out with me to stop Dad from bugging her at work about his return missionary son. The date went well, and she did look good in a bathing suit. She agreed to a second date.  I think it was to the movies. Our third date was the Herzog family reunion. I needed to introduce her to my family early.  If she did not like my family, this relationship would go nowhere. She loved my family, and they loved her. Within six months, we were married and sealed in the temple. Only later did I learn that she knew my older brother and swore she would never marry one of my fathers' sons.

I enjoy family history and love to learn about my grandfathers and grandmothers. I have a program on my cell phone that lets me see all of their histories for at least seven generations. I have read many of their life histories. It is an example of their relationship that has strengthened Bonnie and my relationship.

Thurston Larson was one of the ancestors I love to learn about.  He immigrated from Norway to a community in Iowa near Nauvoo; it was there that his family joined the Mormon church. He was part of the group forced to leave Nauvoo and immigrate west as part of the Mormon migration. He was part of the Mormon Battalion and served in the Mexican American War. He married a young lady from England. She left him for another man leaving him with several children. Later in life, they remarried in the Logan Temple. He partly did this so he could leave her with his war pension. Sometimes love means taking care of someone even when they have wronged you. He must have loved her.

 

 

 

This is my grandmother Lauretta West Byington. My mom told me her story from when I was a little boy. She died while in child delivery. She left several children for my grandfather to raise as a single father in the depression. She could have had an operation to deliver the child, but she would die. She decided to take this last child to Heaven to raise herself. She could not leave her husband with one more child to support with little or no resources.

Her daughter Sarah Elnora (Nora) Herzog raised her last child. Chancy came with her when she married my grandfather Leo Herzog.

These memories of my ancestors and their relationships have sustained my desire to build a relationship with my wife. When life becomes challenging and unbearable, I think of them, and their sacrifices give me the strength to try one more time.

I do love my wife and my children.  I want them forever.  Without my wife and our temple covenants, I also know I cannot with my mother and father and our extended family.  I will devote the remainder of my life to blessing Bonnie's life so that she will choose me again as her eternal companion when we wake on the morning of the resurrection.

 

 

 

 

On Battling the streets of Vicksburg

 I have walked the Battlefields of Vicksburg MS.  Whether those battles be from civil war days or the days of my youth.

In the fall of 1985, I lived briefly in Vicksburg MS.  I was serving as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. During the weeks I would walk the streets knocking on doors and speaking to people.  Searching for those who were searching for Christ.  Most of the time my search failed.  Not many people were searching for Christ.  Even though their lives were largely unfulfilled they where not dissatisfied enough to seek a change.

On the weekends or on Preparation Day, I would drive the single-lane road that covered the Vicksburg Battlefield Park. Men battled there for lives that were largely unsatisfying and unfulfilled.  In those times the Generals thought nothing of losing 50,000 American lives in one day. These men may have come from both Boston and Memphis, yet still, they were American lives.

At the close of my mission, I again walked the Battlefields of Vicksburg, this time with my mom.  I had asked her to come and bring me home at the end of my mission. My Mom and I had battled for two decades to create a relationship that was fulfilled and satisfying.  As I look back now as an old man, I think we essentially won that battle.

And again, today I see men and women, American’s, battling in the streets for their largely unsatisfying lives. We still waste far too many American lives. We continue to battle for the unsatisfying, the things that will never feed our bodies and support our souls.

How do I awaken myself and my fellow Americans to seek and find the one who will fill our lives and feed our needs?

Don Williams "Good Ole Boys like me

Jackson Browne, "Lives in the Balance

On Freedom or Advent

 “A prison cell, in which one waits, hopes - and is completely dependent on the fact that the door of freedom has to be opened from the outside, is not a bad picture of Advent”

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, letter from Tegel Prison

I sit on the edge of my bed mourning the recent death of my father and celebrating the way I offered him a good death, and this quote comes to mind. As a member of a faith community, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, that does not celebrate Advent I wonder what he is celebrating in this letter.

My first thoughts are that it must be similar to our idea of the Atonement where Christ opens the door, to our prison, by his sacrifice in the Olive Grove. There is a famous image that hangs in many of our churches. In the painting, Christ is outside knocking on a door with no knob. It symbolizes Christ knocking on the door waiting for an invitation to go inside.

Bonhoeffer wrote this letter to a friend from a Nazi Prison camp where he was sentenced for the crime of establishing independent Lutheran Seminaries. He is locked in a building awaiting the opening of a mortal prison cell. He will never be freed from this prison. He will be hung shortly before the end of World War II.

So, what is the Advent Bonhoeffer is referring to in this letter? I turn to my best research associate, Google, and ask it what is Advent and when it occurs. I learn that it begins four weeks before Christmas when the Christian Community anticipates the coming birth of the Savor. Since the time of Adam and Eve, he and his children have looked forward to their release from their confinement brought on by the eating of the fruit and the Fall of Mankind.

I wonder if I am awaiting a gift of freedom from a sense of guilt and loss. The guilt of having deprived my father-in-law of a good death, or the failure to provide for my father an environment where he would not be able to injure himself. His death was brought on by a refusal to remain his home while I was at work. He crashed his bike in the middle of the street while recovering from neck surgery. But anyone who knows my father knows the only way I could have prevented this injury was to covert our home into more of the prison then it was currently. Since the starting of the Covid-19 outbreak he has been largely confined to his home, and this has left him with very few pleasures in life.

Toward the end of his life, I knew we would be confined to this home together, me giving him his medicine every four hours and emptying urine bags, while I worked from an adjoining bedroom. We both looked forward to freedom or Advent. He from his Earthy confines and me from this sense of guilt and loss.

He passed fairly quickly after I received permission to use the Oral Morphine. Both of us enjoy freedom or Advent together. He died on a Thursday and on Friday morning I awoke and sent my boss an SMS saying I was not coming to work. I filled my car with gasoline and took a long 6-hour drive through Eastern Idaho and Western Wyoming. It was such a beautiful day for a drive and a chance to celebrate this Advent and look to the next where Christ would redeem my father and me and help us to return to my Heavenly Parents.

On Faithful, Nonconformity

Why must he then,
be faithfully nonconformant?

To believe then,
is to come to then, to know.

When they believed,
did they then conform?

Was it in the beginning,
or in the end?

Speaking of the Cowboy Jesus.
May a man have a vision of the one,
then standing next to a urinal,
in a stall at his wife's baptism?

May Christ reveal himself, to us,
in this manner?

What if the Cowboy Jesus would come riding a horse,
in his cowboy suit, consuming Camel Cigarettes?
Would we then turn him, away?

What if God disobeyed The Word of Wisdom.

Peter partook of the forbidden animals,
and converted the gentiles.

He is now a member of the Christian community,
because Peter broke his version,
of the Word of Wisdom.

Peter then faithfully nonconformed.

Once in Vicksburg, He met the one,
who dying of cancer, received a vision,
From the other,  who was testifying to the truthfulness,
of the Book of Mormon, and the restoration,
while consuming Camel Cigarettes.

To break a rule is to be disobedient.
Disobedience is not faithful nonconformity.
Lucifer rebelled and desired his own will.
Eve disobeyed, to conform to God's will.

Truly it is the rule-breakers,
who disrupt the status quo,
and create a place, for growth.

On the cowboy Jesus