Monthly Archives: April 2017

The Children Wonder Why

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the children wonder why

The Children Wonder Why

Under a dirty moonless sky, the children wonder why, no-one hears them cry.

On the pavements on every street, the children underneath our feet, wonder why they have needs we will not meet.

On the swings on every park, the children cold and stark, wonder why they are left hungry in the dark.

In a bed dressed as a bride, the children who cannot hide, wonder if tonight they will survive.

On a boat that’s name is “Hope”, the children plied with drugs to dope, wonder why they are bound in slavery’s rope.

Underneath the baking sun, the children maimed so they can’t run, wonder why they have been taught to shoot a gun.

In schools throughout the land, the children who cannot understand, wonder why these lessons have been planned.

In the bucket labelled foetus, the children’s souls cry out to Jesus, wonder why life it could not greet us.

Under a tide of ecstasy, the children invisible to see, wonder why they are defiled endlessly.

Inside the mind of All The Good, the children wish they understood, wonder why waters not as thick as blood.

In a world with such potential, the children seen as non essential, wonder why they are deemed experiential.

In the books that man will write, the children for whom they did not fight, wonder why we think we got it right.

Under a cloudless, loveless sky, the children wonder why, we let all that’s Good Just Die.

 

Written by Tracey Odessa Kane 12th September 2013 ©.

WGIE

This poem is taken from the book ‘When God Isn’t Enough’ 

Written by Tracey Odessa Kane and Published by Rowanvale Books 2016.

The book is available to download FREE as an E-Book or to purchase as a Paperback.

Please go to Author website for more details http://www.todessakane.org

(Dear Roy, I think you’ve had more enough credit now, for all the quotes and lines that you lift directly from my blogs and my poetry. Give it a rest now and think for yourself! #Copyright).

Copyright © “All Rights Reserved” Please see copyright page for more details.

If you would like to know more about my books, or if you would like to book a talk or a poetry reading, or to discuss any of my work further then please feel free to email me at tokane13books@gmail.com I would sincerely love to hear from you.

All my daily blogs are automatically posted on Linkedin, Twitter and Facebook and are sent by email, direct to all those that subscribe to anotherdaysomeday2013.com via WordPress. If you would like to receive my daily blog posts please see contact page for more details, Thank You and God bless you Tracey Odessa Kane 🙂

Faith In One

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faith in one

Faith In One

 

Nobody saw that coming, not one person had any idea…

Eliab stared intently at the scene as it continued to unfold before him. As the tension grew so too did his anger. He was so immature, a boy, small, a shepherd, nothing special. He was good looking he’d give him that, but good looks don’t make a solider, nor do they win you a fight. Eliab thought that it was a joke when David started to move forward, looking like he was ready to fight, surely not…

…One stone, one single stone was all it took to slay the giant.

Written by Tracey Odessa Kane 13 August 2013 ©.

Taken from the collection ‘A Hundred Words’ written by Tracey Odessa Kane.

(Dear Roy, I think you’ve had more enough credit now, for all the quotes and lines that you lift directly from my blogs and my poetry. Give it a rest now and think for yourself! #Copyright).

Copyright © “All Rights Reserved” Please see copyright page for more details.

If you would like to know more about my books, or if you would like to book a talk or a poetry reading, or to discuss any of my work further then please feel free to email me at tokane13books@gmail.com I would sincerely love to hear from you.

All my daily blogs are automatically posted on Linkedin, Twitter and Facebook and are sent by email, direct to all those that subscribe to anotherdaysomeday2013.com via WordPress. If you would like to receive my daily blog posts please see contact page for more details, Thank You and God bless you Tracey Odessa Kane 🙂

 

Do you love me?

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do you love me

When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?”

“Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.”

Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”

He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Take care of my sheep.”

The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”

Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me?” He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Feed my sheep…  John 21 v 15-17

Do you love me?

Do you love me he whispered?

Do you love me with love that’s so true?

Do you love me with all of your heart?

Do you love me, do you love me, do you?

I see my little ones dying,

All alone, so unloved, so afraid.

I hear their cries and it hurts me so much,

This was not the purpose, for which they were made.

Please feed my sheep be a blessing,

Let them know that you truly care.

Feed my sheep grant them solace,

I gave you more than enough, so you’d share.

Do you love me he whispered?

Do you love me with all of your soul?

Do you love me with all that you are?

Do you love me, do you make love your goal?

I hear my children screaming,

For justice, for mercy, for peace.

For someone to help share their burden,

For someone to make hatred cease.

Please take care of my lambs, I implore you,

Give them refuge, then build a safe place.

Love them as I have loved you,

Furnish their lives with limitless grace.

Do you love me he whispered?

Do you love me with all of your strength?

Do you love me with all of your mind?

Do you love me, would you go to, any length?

I feel the great pain of my children,

As they try to reach out to call.

As they try to drink without water,

As they try to make sense of it all.

Please feed my sheep, be a blessing,

Open your arms, meet their need.

A small act can make a huge difference,

Start planting, some life changing seed.

Do you love me he whispered?

Do you love me with love that’s so true?

Do you love me with all of your heart?

Do you love me, do you love me, do you?

Written by Tracey Odessa Kane 4 March 2008 ©.

(Dear Roy, I think you’ve had more enough credit now, for all the quotes and lines that you lift directly from my blogs and my poetry. Give it a rest now and think for yourself! #Copyright).

Copyright © “All Rights Reserved” Please see copyright page for more details.

If you would like to know more about my books, or if you would like to book a talk or a poetry reading, or to discuss any of my work further then please feel free to email me at tokane13books@gmail.com I would sincerely love to hear from you.

All my daily blogs are automatically posted on Linkedin, Twitter and Facebook and are sent by email, direct to all those that subscribe to anotherdaysomeday2013.com via WordPress. If you would like to receive my daily blog posts please see contact page for more details, Thank You and God bless you Tracey Odessa Kane 🙂

He Is Risen

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he is risen

…But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; He has risen, just as He said! Come, see the place where He lay. Then go quickly and tell His disciples, ‘He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see Him.’ See, I have told you.”…

                                                                                                                      Mathew 28 v 5-7

He Is Risen

 

My child don’t hang your head in sorrow

Speak to your heart, the truth to her tell,

Death’s lost its power, it could not keep me

Satan’s gates didn’t hold, stand up so well.

No power had he to match my Fathers

No grounds had he to claim the earth,

No roots had he to make firm his kingdom

To man and beast he had no worth.

 

My child don’t hang your head in sorrow

Weep not for me besides an empty tomb,

Don’t look for me in deaths grave garments

Nor seek my body to reclaim, exhume.

Don’t look for me in the arms of mourners

Don’t look for me upon a cross,

Don’t look for me where you’ll never find me

I have not gone, I am not lost.

 

My child don’t hang you head in sorrow

Death lost its sting I am alive,

The way is now open to my Father

His will sufficed, His truths abide.

No schemes of man, no priests, no powers

Could perceive, contain the plan divine,

A now the Way, the Truth, the Life

Will heaven and earth once more align.

 

My child don’t hand your head in sorrow

For all these things and more, you’ll do,

I’ve seen your hearts, I know you’re potential

That’s why what I did, I did for you.

So do not fear and do not worry

Be strong, have courage, toward the prize strive,

Trust in me, know I am with you

For I Have Risen…. I Am Alive.

 

Written by Tracey Odessa Kane 1 April 2010 ©.

(Dear Roy, I think you’ve had more enough credit now, for all the quotes and lines that you lift directly from my blogs and my poetry. Give it a rest now and think for yourself! #Copyright).

Copyright © “All Rights Reserved” Please see copyright page for more details.

If you would like to know more about my books, or if you would like to book a talk or a poetry reading, or to discuss any of my work further then please feel free to email me at tokane13books@gmail.com I would sincerely love to hear from you.

All my daily blogs are automatically posted on Linkedin, Twitter and Facebook and are sent by email, direct to all those that subscribe to anotherdaysomeday2013.com via WordPress. If you would like to receive my daily blog posts please see contact page for more details, Thank You and God bless you Tracey Odessa Kane 🙂

Did you hear the stones cry out?

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did you hear

The problem that Judas and so many others had, had with Jesus was his Kingship. You see they had long hoped for a King who would fight for them, with swords and spears, a Warrior King. A King, who would bring down Rome, with all of its oppressive ways. But Jesus was a humble King, a King who fought only with Love and Peace and Truth. He was a King of choice, of grace and of free will.

They wanted a King who reflected power and authority, a King who was born into wealth and renown, a King who wore a crown to be envied by all. But Jesus was born in a stable to a poor young unmarried mother, who had little or no status and his crown was a crown of sacrifice, of thorns, not to be envied, but to be laughed at ridiculed.

They wanted a King who dined with statesmen, a King who was friends with the rich, the educated, the famous, and the powerful. But Jesus was a King who ate with tax collectors, who befriended prostitutes, who spent time with the lowest of low.

They wanted a King who would save himself. But Jesus was a King who wanted only to save others.

They wanted a King…They got the prince of peace.

They wanted a King… They got a Saviour.

They wanted a King…But they didn’t recognise him when he arrived and so they felt betrayed.

Written by Tracey Odessa Kane 2 March 2009 ©. 

 

Did you hear the stones cry out?

 

Did you hear the stones all cry out?

When our shame had stolen our voice,

When we kept our heads hung low

And we named Barabbas as our choice.

 

Did you hear the stones all cry out?

When our silence said it all,

When Pontius Pilate washed his hands

And we stood by the sin that caused our fall.

 

Did you hear the stones all cry out?

When our guilt shunned innocence,

When we watched them tear his flesh apart

Because he would not cry out in his own defence.

 

Did you hear the stones all cry out?

When our anger made us ask,

If you are truly who you day you are

Then smite them like we asked.

 

Did you hear the stones all cry out?

Because you we closed our eyes and turned away,

Because we held each soldiers coat

Accepted the coins they threw our way.

 

Did you hear the stones all cry out?

When we gazed up on the Son of Man,

Who we could no longer even recognise

He was our God, He is I Am.

 

Did you hear the stones all cry out?

As we hid our face in shame,

When the realisation dawned upon us

That things would never be the same.

 

Did you hear the stones all cry out?

As we bowed our head and cried,

When they drove in the nails deep

And we faced the fullness of our pride.

 

Did you hear the stones all cry out?

As we fully recognised,

That the one hanging there before us

Was God’s beloved, life’s greatest prize.

 

Did you hear the stones all cry out?

As we listened to his voice,

Please forgive them Father he asked

Of all he could have asked for, that was his choice!

 

Did you hear the stones all cry out?

As he took his final breath,

As he closed eyes for the last time

Did our hearts not suddenly feel bereft?

 

Did you hear the stones all cry out?

When our disbelief kept our mouths closed,

Did you hear the stones all crying out

Because of all the goats, dressed in sheep’s clothes.

 

Written by Tracey Odessa Kane 1 April 2014 ©.

(Dear Roy, I think you’ve had more enough credit now, for all the quotes and lines that you lift directly from my blogs and my poetry. Give it a rest now and think for yourself! #Copyright).

Copyright © “All Rights Reserved” Please see copyright page for more details.

If you would like to know more about my books, or if you would like to book a talk or a poetry reading, or to discuss any of my work further then please feel free to email me at tokane13books@gmail.com I would sincerely love to hear from you.

All my daily blogs are automatically posted on LinkedIn, Twitter and Facebook and are sent by email, direct to all those that subscribe to anotherdaysomeday2013.com via WordPress. If you would like to receive my daily blog posts please see contact page for more details, Thank You and God bless you Tracey Odessa Kane 🙂

Then the earth fell silent.

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then the earth fell silent

The Death of Jesus

At noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. And at three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”).

When some of those standing near heard this, they said, “Listen, he’s calling Elijah.”

Someone ran, filled a sponge with wine vinegar, put it on a staff, and offered it to Jesus to drink. “Now leave him alone. Let’s see if Elijah comes to take him down,” he said.

With a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last.

The curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. And when the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, saw how he died, he said, “Surely this man was the Son of God!”  Mark 15 v 33-38 NIV.

 

Then the earth fell silent.

Then the earth fell silent, not a mutter, not a sigh could be heard,

Not a quiet sound or a whisper, it was silent’s, silent, I know that sounds absurd.

And the wind in the tree’s held its breath and the sun quickly gathered her rays,

And the lilies in the field tucked their petals in tight, and the clouds darkened, the birds flew away.

For man had reached the lowest of low, he had done the most heinous of things,

He had taken the life of an innocent man, murdered the prince, the true King of Kings.

Oh why, oh why did you do it? My heart sank, yet I was part of it too,

For the sin and the lies and the evil, had washed me and was part of me through and through.

He looked like a new babe in arms, as he hung there all battered and bruised,

Such love and passion filled his eyes, like a parent when the school race you lose.

Forgive them Father he said, for they know not what they do,

Look at them and have mercy on them, I’ve seen the truth and they are ready it’s true.

All the work that I’ve done they’ll continue, all the words that I spoke they’ll repeat,

All the things that I did they will do, they will serve both the strong and the weak.

Forgive them Father he whispered, there’s good in them truly there is,

Forgive them they misunderstood, at that moment in time they still acted as his.

Then the earth fell silent, not a mutter, not a sigh could you hear,

Yet somehow you knew that it had now finished, and the way had at last been made clear.

And the wind in the tree’s held its breath, and the sun quickly gathered her rays,

It was then; right then that it happened, Jesus was recognised and then he was praised.

Written by Tracey Odessa Kane 27 July 2007 ©.

(Dear Roy, I think you’ve had more enough credit now, for all the quotes and lines that you lift directly from my blogs and my poetry. Give it a rest now and think for yourself! #Copyright).

Copyright © “All Rights Reserved” Please see copyright page for more details.

If you would like to know more about my books, or if you would like to book a talk or a poetry reading, or to discuss any of my work further then please feel free to email me at tokane13books@gmail.com I would sincerely love to hear from you.

All my daily blogs are automatically posted on Linkedin, Twitter and Facebook and are sent by email, direct to all those that subscribe to anotherdaysomeday2013.com via WordPress. If you would like to receive my daily blog posts please see contact page for more details, Thank You and God bless you Tracey Odessa Kane 🙂

 

Thursday’s Child.

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 thursday

Thursday’s Child.

 

Thursday’s child had far to go

So the story had long been foretold,

For this child would go to the ends of the earth

For a treasure, that to him, was more precious than gold.

 

I was completely overwhelmed that night

By the love that I felt in my heart,

As I took the bowl and the towel

I was ready for the lesson to start.

 

Kneeling there at their feet

Felt like the most intimate thing I had done,

I was their Father and they were my children

But I was also their Saviour, Man’s Son.

 

They did not understand the true meaning

Didn’t get why I did what I did,

But I knew that sooner or later

They’d understand that’s what sacrifice is.

 

I could have wept for a whole host of reasons

Not least for the love in their eyes,

Such love that I’d take to the cross

Such love, now eternity’s prize.

 

Thursday’s child had far to go

So the story had long been foretold,

For this child would go to the ends of the earth

For a treasure, that to him, was more precious than gold.

 

I wasn’t sure if they were yet ready

To be left on their own in this way,

I still had so much left to tell them

My whole being was longing to stay.

 

But I had to do, what I came here to do

And now was the time and the place,

I was the Lord of the dance and the band played my tune

I had to cease this day, run my race.

 

When I lifted the bread up before me

And explained the part it would play,

I saw such sadness fill their souls

As they questioned “Can we truly remember this way?”

 

Taking the cup was one step too many

I saw them reel at the thought of my blood,

Their hearts fell like lead had been added

To remember would be hard at first, but they would.

 

Thursday’s child had far to go

So the story had long been foretold,

For this child would go to the ends of the earth

For a treasure, that to him, was more precious than gold.

 

It was so silent there in the garden

As I began confronting my fears,

As I contemplated the events yet to come

As I fought off, my doubts and my tears.

 

I was angry when I found them all sleeping

How could they do this to me?

I needed them now more than ever

But it seems they were too blind to see.

 

As I went back to pray to my Father

My fears came crashing in all around,

And the tears that I’d held deep inside

Were now gushing, yet making no sound.

 

Please take this cup from me Father

I couldn’t hold in, what I now felt,

I couldn’t see how I could go through it

So I implored him right there as I knelt.

 

And as the tears, sweat and blood ran so freely

I took hold of my senses my heart,

It was then that I said to my Father

Not my will, I shall play my part.

 

Thursday’s child had far to go

So the story had long been foretold,

For this child would go to the ends of the earth

For a treasure, that to him, was more precious than gold.

 

It hurt me so much when he kissed me

But I knew that it had to be done,

I knew that he too had his own part to play

And that he too, was an obedient son.

 

I could feel the pain in their hearts

As they lead me away from their sight,

As they tried to understand for the last time

That sword’s do not win you the fight.

 

Protect them Father I whispered

Give them courage to follow the dance,

Let their strength come directly from you

Help them give love, a real fighting chance.

 

I can’t say any more at this moment

For Thursday is all but through, it’s over and done,

And I still have so far yet to travel

And there is still the last battle to be won.

 

Thursday’s child had far to go

So the story had long been foretold,

For this child would go to the ends of the earth

For a treasure, that to him, was more precious than gold.

 

Written by Tracey Odessa Kane 2nd March 2009 ©.

WGIE

This poem is taken from the book ‘When God Isn’t Enough’ 

Written by Tracey Odessa Kane and Published by Rowanvale Books 2016.

The book is available to download FREE as an E-Book or to purchase as a Paperback.

Please go to Author website for more details http://www.todessakane.org

(Dear Roy, I think you’ve had more enough credit now, for all the quotes and lines that you lift directly from my blogs and my poetry. Give it a rest now and think for yourself! #Copyright).

Copyright © “All Rights Reserved” Please see copyright page for more details.

If you would like to know more about my books, or if you would like to book a talk or a poetry reading, or to discuss any of my work further then please feel free to email me at tokane13books@gmail.com I would sincerely love to hear from you.

All my daily blogs are automatically posted on Linkedin, Twitter and Facebook and are sent by email, direct to all those that subscribe to anotherdaysomeday2013.com via WordPress. If you would like to receive my daily blog posts please see contact page for more details, Thank You and God bless you Tracey Odessa Kane 🙂

30 reasons to kiss a friend.

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 30 reasons

Then one of the twelve, named Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, “What are you willing to give me to betray Him to you?” And they weighed out thirty pieces of silver to him.…  Matthew 26:15

 

30 reasons to kiss a friend.

If I asked you to think of a good friend, a close friend, how easy would be? What depths of feelings would that friend evoke in you? What memories would automatically spring to mind? What shared experiences would you speak of? What journeys have you embarked on together?

Has your friendship always been about happy times or were there more than a few sad times too, and everything in-between? Were you always this close?

What keeps your friendship alive? Shared hopes? Shared dreams? The path you both found yourselves upon? Do you have the same ideals, aims, objectives in life? Do you have similar tastes?

Would you do anything for your friend? Would your friend do anything for you?

Finally if I were to ask you to calculate how much time you have spent together, what do you think the final figure would be?

Friendships, we invest so much in them, share so much, depend so much on them, experience so much through the friendships we form in life. Indeed these friendships often remain when all else fails. They often stand firm when everything else around us crumbles. The often stay behind when everyone else ups and leaves. That is what makes it so very hard to take, to swallow when things go wrong.

But they do go wrong don’t they? Sometimes spectacularly!

Friendships don’t always last. Don’t always have a fairy tale ending. They don’t always stand the test of time, stay true. Sadly sometimes we discover that our friends were never truly our friends at all. Vested interest, ambition, money, position, power and lust, indeed a whole host of reasons can lie behind their feigning of friendship, some vile, dark and destructive. Unfortunately in such instants we are all too often the last to know what really lies behind the mask of friendship, or their reasons for wearing it in the first place.

The cruellest most painful blow in any relationship, in any friendship, is the unmitigated, devastating blow of betrayal. The betrayal of a friend is often the hardest, most painful life experience, the most distressing life lesson that we ever have to deal with. Its effects are incontrovertible…

I want you to imagine for a few minutes, a small group of friends, ordinary people brought together through an extra ordinary set of circumstances…

I want you to imagine a pivotal point in history, a time like never before, nor any since…

A small group of friends, not brought together out of pleasure or practicality, but out of plan, of divine purpose. Brought together by the Master Scribe Himself, destined to rewrite history, destined to be the change the world so longed desperately to see.

These friends are here not by accident or chance, but by design, here to help one man pay it forward in such a way that humanity would know of his passion throughout all of history, throughout all eternity to come.

For three years, that’s 156 weeks, 1,095 days, 26,280 hours, or 1,576,800 minutes this small group of friends were together day in and day out. Their lives were woven together so tightly like the threads in a tapestry, that nothing could prevent them from achieving their goals.

To say they experienced the miraculous is an understatement…

To say they saw people healed, restored, forgiven, doesn’t even express the tip of the iceberg of what they truly saw….

To say that they heard stories, parables, teachings that would reveal the truth in such a way that all men would be set free upon hearing it, doesn’t quite explain it…

And thus as the result of a window of opportunity, being commissioned and opened by God Himself, as the result of a divine plan being formed and executed, history was changed forever. And this small group of friends were at the very centre of it, at the very core of it all.

Yet into this small group of friends came… the betrayal to end all betrayals…

How did said betrayal reveal itself? The most carnal way in which it knew how…

With a kiss…

One of the friends found thirty reasons to kiss his friend. Thirty reasons to sell him out. Thirty reasons to forget everything they had been through together, had done together. Thirty reasons to turn his back and commit the ultimate betrayal, the ‘fait accompli’.

Judas…Friend…Turned Liar…Turned Money Grabber.

Judas…Friend…Turned Spy…Turned Ultimate Betrayer.

But… There’s a twist, and it’s a really good one! Come on you knew there would be…

You see in this story the kiss of death, becomes the kiss of life. The kiss of death becomes the kiss that leads to the supreme fulfilment of God’s plan, of God’s purposes. The kiss of death becomes the kiss that leads to the truth that will set mankind free…

The kiss of death that contains within it death, yes…but also resurrection. Life. The resurrection of Christ, of life bringing grace, the hope of the world…

Written by Tracey Odessa Kane 1st April 2015 ©.

(Dear Roy, I think you’ve had more enough credit now, for all the quotes and lines that you lift directly from my blogs and my poetry. Give it a rest now and think for yourself! #Copyright).

Copyright © “All Rights Reserved” Please see copyright page for more details.

If you would like to know more about my books, or if you would like to book a talk or a poetry reading, or to discuss any of my work further then please feel free to email me at tokane13books@gmail.com I would sincerely love to hear from you.

All my daily blogs are automatically posted on Linkedin, Twitter and Facebook and are sent by email, direct to all those that subscribe to anotherdaysomeday2013.com via WordPress. If you would like to receive my daily blog posts please see contact page for more details, Thank You and God bless you Tracey Odessa Kane 🙂

 

Pretty Little Butterfly

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pretty little butterfly

Pretty Little Butterfly

Tragic little butterfly,

Who stole from you your wings?

Who grounded you forever more?

Took away the freedom that flight brings?

Lonely little butterfly

Who banished you from home?

Who decided loveless violence

Would be all that you’d be shown?

Silly little butterfly,

Who told you to ever seek the good?

Who told you to cling to hope?

She who told you to have faith,

Had misunderstood

That life is not for little butterflies,

With wings embossed with beauty.

It’s not for pretty little creatures

Who seek only to do their duty.

It’s most definitely not for little butterflies

Who want to spread their wings,

Who dream of having a wonderful adventure

Full of magic and mystery, amongst other things.

It’s not for pretty little butterflies

Who long to run their race,

Who have to learn the hard way

That for them in life there is no place.

Written by Tracey Odessa Kane 10th June 2015 ©

new release

This poem is taken from the book ‘Left Handed Poetry from a Right Handed Poet’ 

Written by Tracey Odessa Kane and Published by Rowanvale Books 2015.

The book is available to purchase as an E-Book or as a Paperback.

Please go to Author website for more details http://www.todessakane.org

(Dear Roy, I think you’ve had more enough credit now, for all the quotes and lines that you lift directly from my blogs and my poetry. Give it a rest now and think for yourself! #Copyright).

Copyright © “All Rights Reserved” Please see copyright page for more details.

If you would like to know more about my books, or if you would like to book a talk or a poetry reading, or to discuss any of my work further then please feel free to email me at tokane13books@gmail.com I would sincerely love to hear from you.

All my daily blogs are automatically posted on Linkedin, Twitter and Facebook and are sent by email, direct to all those that subscribe to anotherdaysomeday2013.com via WordPress. If you would like to receive my daily blog posts please see contact page for more details, Thank You and God bless you Tracey Odessa Kane 🙂

Why did the chicken cross the road?

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why did the chicken

Why did the chicken cross the road?

 

I have to be honest from the outset and admit that I didn’t actually see the chicken cross the road, I only heard about it once it had already happened.  I did try asking several people at the scene if they knew why the chicken had crossed the road and where it was now, but none of them could give me a logical answer or even a clue.  Don’t get me wrong they all had their own thoughts and theories ranging from the wildly ridiculous, to the presumptuous, because it wanted to get to the other side, but none of them could say for sure.  Indeed none of what they actually said rang true with me at all, so I decided to investigate the matter for myself.

 

Like all great detectives, by a series of evaluations and eliminations I decided to start at the beginning, I went back to the coup.  To say the other chickens were keeping mum was an understatement, if they knew anything they were not for telling! In fact if I’m brutally honest they were all really ignorant, you’d of thought I was speaking another language, the way they all just looked at me calmly and then carried on with what they were doing.

 

Realising I would get no answers there I headed off towards the direction of the main farm, surely someone there would be able to answer my questions?

 

After extensive digging here and there and talking to everyone present, it became clear that if anyone knew the truth they were sitting on it and refusing to budge.  As the plot thickened so my resolve grew to get to the bottom of it.

 

I went back to the scene of the crime feeling certain that I must have overlooked something.  Sadly all I found there were a single feather and two small muddy footprints that were slowly beginning to dry and fade into the midday sun.  I decided to take a break, finding a bench close to the scene I sat down and took my hastily prepared packed lunch out of my bag. It didn’t look appetising I’m not going to lie, but beggars can’t be choosers, so I gave thanks and began to tuck in.

 

Captivated by the busyness of life on the high street I momentarily forgot why I was there.  I say momentarily because one minute I was enjoying watching as people laughed, chatted and went about their busyness, but one bite of my Quorn faux chicken barm, and I was right back to the question, why did the chicken cross the road?  There had to be reason and a good one at that.

 

My thoughts landed somewhere in the centre of what had been said, assumed, suggested, proposed and what hadn’t been said and thus reading between the lines my mind began to formulate an answer.  Whether or not it was the right answer was yet to be proven but I had the makings of an answer and for the moment I was happy to explore that.

 

Even though the chicken’s brothers from other mothers and the sisters from other misters had remained silent in the coup, their silence had spoken volumes.  It was all about the pecking order, top down control, bottom up defiance, middle of the road compliance.

 

Then there was the farmer’s wife and that empty pie… I know what you’re thinking and believe me when I say those were my thoughts exactly.  And why such a sharp knife if you were supposedly only going to trim the pastry lid.  I was having none of it; she knew it too but kept silent.  Had the chicken seen the empty pie case, had it glimpsed the rising sun reflected in the cold hard steel of the knife? I had my suspicions…

 

Just then another face popped into my head.  Don’t even get me started on the shady character from that well known fast food company, came the voice from within.  Rumour had it that they were toying with the idea of using real chicken in their products, and well let’s face it, rumours like that are enough to send any chicken running for its life, road or no road.  No chicken worth its salt would even tempt fate and wait around to find out if that particular rumour was true or not.  And from what I knew about this chicken it was not the sort to take unnecessary chances, that’s why crossing the road just didn’t make any sense to me, well not at first glance anyway.

 

I think the suggestions that were made by some at the scene, that claimed that the chicken didn’t even know it was crossing the road, were a little bit much really, after all it had been of sound mind enough to get from the farm, past the fast food manufacturers at the end of Newport street, to the High street, which let’s face it was no mean feat in itself. To my mind that proves that it was no accidental crossing, this chicken knew exactly what it was doing and why it was doing it.

 

I didn’t buy the following trail of breadcrumbs theory either, no this chicken was of sound mind, and thus in my opinion had a valid reason for doing what no other chicken before it had dared, or even tried to do.

 

I was intrigued to say the very least and determined to do my utmost to ensure that like every other great legend of bravery and valour before it, this chicken’s story, the whole truth and nothing but of it, would indeed be remembered and re-told for generations to come.

 

Like a light being unexpectedly turned on by a switch in my head my thoughts took a different turn, and somewhere in my mind’s eye I could clearly see a boat full of young men and an image walking towards them on the water. All at once without any glimmer of real thought or provocation,  one of the young men stood to his feet and devoid of any fears or reservation regarding his safety, or lack thereof, of it,  he stepped out onto the water to embrace that which we are told to him was his life’s very meaning.

 

Peter saw his saviour and doing what no one else in that boat would do, he stepped onto the water and he began to walk towards Jesus…

 

Now anyone who knows the story will know that Peter didn’t quite make it (for those of you who don’t know the story, Peter didn’t quite make it, overcome by the sheer exuberance and brevity of the situation, Peter began to sink and Jesus had to rescue him), but the fact we need to focus resolutely on here, is that Peter was the only one who got out of the boat and tried.  He was the only one that got over himself, that got past his fears, ignored the waves, banished the ghosts, the only one to silence those internal voices that tell us we can’t and he walked on water.

 

Peter did what no one before him, or no one after him had ever done (other than Jesus Himself), he walked on water.  He pursued his dream, his reason, his purpose, his passion with each and every single beat of his heart, with every breath in his body, every fibre of his being. Peter’s will and his soul, his mind and his spirit were all at once aligned and thus engaged in one single objective, the pursuit of his major definite purpose.  With his eyes fixed firmly and determinedly on his prize, he went for it whilst everyone else did absolutely nothing.

 

I can’t help but wonder if I would have got out of that boat and walked on water?  I like to think I would but you see that is often our biggest problem, we all can convince ourselves that when the time comes to follow our dream, make that call, take that risk, make that move etc. we would, but seriously if that were true, if that were the case, would the picture we see of life, of the world that we all live in truly look the way it looks today?…

 

Aren’t we just kidding ourselves when we say yes I would get out of the boat and walk on water, I would run my race, write that book, climb that mountain, cross that road.  Have we not been ‘All the good people who do nothing’ for so long that in all honesty, that’s really all we truly know how to do…Nothing!

 

We don’t rock boats and we certainly don’t get out of them and walk on water . . . Do we?!

 

But hang on a minute I hear you say, what does all this have to do with why a chicken crossed a road?

 

Trust me it has everything to do with it.

 

You see on the other side of the road that chicken knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that everything it ever hoped or dreamt of was across there waiting for it.  It has seen in its heart and in its dreams where it needed to go, what it needed to do and when the coup was left open momentarily, like Peter before it, it saw its chanced and it seized it with both wings.

 

Interestingly like the other people in the boat that day with Peter, not one other chicken tried to walk out of the coup in those moments when opportunity called, when destiny paid them a visit.  Not one other chicken saw anything worth leaving for, and even though the shadow of the cold steel blade was cast across the coup for all to see, they never once thought of leaving behind all that they knew, to go out there and discover the truth, the real truth, the whole truth and nothing but of who and why they were. And like so many before them their destiny and all of its purpose and potential, was simply handed back like an unwanted, unopened gift to the giver of life.

 

Our chicken, this unsung hero in our midst, crossed the road because it suspected that there could be more, that it could be more and so putting one foot in front of the other, the chicken crossed the road and made it to the other side, where all of its hopes and dreams, and possibilities stood cheering it on.

 

And I don’t know about you but when people ask me what I want to be remembered for I want to stand and say in all truthfulness that I may not have walked on water (yet!), but I crossed the road.

 

I ditched comfort and took a hold of adventure; I dismissed safety and employed courage.  I shunned security and embraced the unknown. I fired logic and went after possibility.  I, like Peter before me took my chance, seized my opportunity, reached out and grabbed a hold of my prize, I like the chicken before me, crossed the road.

 

Why, because I too knew beyond all doubt that across the road was my beginning…

 

And it was.

 

But what about you, where is your beginning?

 

Where are you? Safe in the coup, happy in the boat, oblivious to the life that’s waiting for you, calling to you, hoping with everything inside of it that you’ve capture your moment and wholeheartedly embraced it?

 

Where are you, are you poised, ready to seize your day?

 

When your moment comes… and it will, you have to know how you will respond; you have to be prepared, ready, willing…

 

I wonder will you walk on water, will you cross the road, or will you be one of the others in the boat, in the coup, whose names we never hear, whose stories we never read, whose deeds we never talk about, whose examples we choose not to remember?

 

Why did the chicken cross the road?

 

Because it trusted that it could and it believed that it should.

 

Written by Tracey Odessa Kane 10th March 2014 ©.

(Dear Roy, I think you’ve had more enough credit now, for all the quotes and lines that you lift directly from my blogs and my poetry. Give it a rest now and think for yourself! #Copyright).

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