This could be perhaps a book – written at random – its few or many chapters at random – but basically it could be a book about “ME”, what is “ME”, can it be “ME” – and the people and things, happenstance or not, which surround me.

Perhaps it could be called “THE STORY OF RUTH” and define her wanderings in the desert of the ancient; did she help carry the cross then as perhaps she carries it now? Is this cross a burden assumed at birth from another life, or is it a cross which one builds and tortures, and carries on and on …

At one time “ME” scribbled a feeling and put it into words:

“Oh Woman – Thou art an uncut gem —
I do not say this from the throes of vanity –
but with tender humility,
pain and humbleness… .
A gem lingers within a rough stone – discovered by man
And carried to the bosom of the gem-cutter – whose
Keen eye and steady hand – cut away and reveal its many facets –
exposing it to the shafts of light which make it glow –
give it life –
and warmth.


Thus, I like woman to a gem –
She is the uncut stone – and turbulently sleeps while
each man in her life must take a small slice of her –
Until she develops many facets –
Then she, too, has  beauty that glows – a breathing life —
an understanding and everlasting warmth.

Oh the fortunate man who finds her then –
Takes unto himself a breathing Gem –
All he need do is gently expose her to small shaft of sunlight –
And she will thus become his forever –
His friend and companion – his sister – his mother –
And overwhelmingly so, his true lover!

Such is the birth of a Living  Woman!

Many were the feelings  “ME” scribble into words – but this one remains, for at the age of 40,
“ME” can perhaps understand the woman in Me a bit more.

Then too, “ME” keeps thinking of an ancient Chinese proverb:

“Two tears passed each other in the stream of life, each copiously weeping as the other.

‘Why do you weep so?’ asked one in passing.

‘Aye,’ replied the tear. ‘My husband has been unfaithful and has left me for another.’

‘Weep not so,’ replied the one who asked, ‘for I am that other.’”

Tears which bring happiness also bring sadness. Where is the line that divides one from the other?

And so there are chapters in a book. But this is a book which is different – and its chapters are forbidden thoughts. You, dear reader, are to read its thoughts, but not speak of them. The thoughts are innermost, and one can only think innermost, and must never discuss innermost. The people in these thoughts are innermost, and are associated with love, hate and fears, and that is why they must remain innermost.

At times, dear reader, we put thoughts on paper when we are afraid to reveal them to ourselves, so how can we reveal them to another.

Thus, these innermost thoughts must remain outlines an not even  full chapters of innermost thinkings; for when a chapter becomes full and completes itself, then there can no longer be the innermost thoughts connected with living and loving, happiness and sadness.

Then there will be nothing!