The United States of America! Still the greatest country in the World!

A little glitch…

A little hitch…

Well, okay, not so “little”…

We endure…

We persevere…

We keep going…

Always knowing…

FREEDOM IS WORTH FIGHTING FOR!!!!!!

“Oh, say can you see…”

Yes, I can!!!!!

Deborah A. Bowman

eagle and flag

The death of my beloved pet, Molly…

Queen Molly

Molly wearing a bracelet crown upon her wee head.

I dreamed of Molly last night. She was a kitten, running and jumping and spinning around in a beautiful garden. The first thing she said was that she had never seen the sun. Which is true… She was outside only once in all of her 20 years, and it was in the middle of a thunderstorm. She was chasing and playing with a tiny yellow butterfly. Then she thanked me for getting her help from the nice man she used to see every year. “He picked me up and hugged me and loved me like he used to do” … that’s Dr. Wahls, her veterinarian. “Then he gave me a little sharp tap (needle), and I suddenly felt good again. I thought I’d be going home to you, Mommy! I could see him and the nice lady who hugged me too, but I couldn’t move. I was calm and relaxed. The nice man was crying a little bit like you, Mommy. Just a little bit. He petted me but I couldn’t feel it. I wanted to put my head under his hand like I do with you, Mommy, when I want you to pet me and rub my ears. But I couldn’t move my head, but it was okay. I felt so much better! Then something shiny, long and thin, smaller than the pens you write stories with. He put it on my fur near my neck, but I didn’t feel anything. Then I just went to sleep like I do on our bed, Mommy, and I woke up in the sunshine. The grass whispered to me what sunshine is. Then this little creature flew over to me. We are playing tag. I am so happy here. But the flying bug with wings said Mommy couldn’t come be with me yet. I was a little sad, but the flowers showed me how to look down and see you. So Mommy you can look up and see me too, any time you want. Thank you, Mommy, for listening to me when I told you it was time to go. I didn’t think you heard me at first. But you did, and now I’m here! Oh, Mommy, guess what? I can see again! I will be with you all the time, and we can talk whenever you want to. Mommy Debbie, why are you crying? Are those happy tears? I…ROVE…U… You taught me to say that. I remember… U…ROVE…ME!”

Molly

IMG_20171119_093410Many of my readers who have followed me for a long time will remember my spokesperson, Molly the cat. She went to live in heaven last week after a beautiful, long life of 20 years. Molly was rescued by my father and nursed back to health after a traumatic beginning in life. She had her own video, which was seen by people all over the world. 

Molly was also a character in my YA Series of Books, Delilah Astral Projection Series. She will live forever in my books.

Deliliah, Episode Two, eBook cover, 1-16-18

It has taken me over a week to be able to impart my sad news to the world. I know that my Molly is in heaven. I will use the words of my own sister who is a Veterinarian. She was at her first job after getting her degree of V.M.D. from the University of Pennsylvania. A young woman approached my sister after getting the sad news that her cat had passed. “Will my cat be waiting for me in heaven?” My sister did not skip a breath or a heartbeat, but immediately said, “Would it be heaven without them?”

No, it would not be heaven without the pets in our lives. Molly is with my father Daddy Harry Bowman, who saved her life. She is also with my husband, Daddy Sidney. They all dwell in heaven together. I send my love!

Deborah A. Bowman 

Tree of Life

flight landscape nature sky
TREE OF LIFE!

The Tree of Life is knocking at our door.

Look at the leaves and twigs and branches,

Intermingling and connecting to give us more

Of what we’ve had before.

Does the growth and stagnation end for new chances

To begin with new sprouts of fresh green limbs?

Rest on solid ground and gaze upward

Into the maze of branches that allow us to soar!

by Deborah A. Bowman

An Artist’s Eye and the Poet’s Voice

woman holding an instant camera
A picture is worth a thousand words!
A photographer captures essence, substance, and texture
With an artist’s eye.
We gasp our breath and wonder why
We didn’t see it like this!
There’s so much beauty to miss
If we don’t crop out the boring distractions

With a lens which highlights only the attractions!

Frame the picture with surroundings that highlight
The image we want to project.
Center it or leave it askew to delight
The imagination and tease the senses
With unique balance and no defects.
It is perfect…
It calls out to all of us who neglect
The image and fill the page with words instead.
The photographer and poet with inner reflection
View art from a different perspective.
The artist’s eye and the wordsmith’s ear
Coming together to create
What many eyes never see
And many ears do not hear.
It is not from neglect.
It is a difference of expression.
It is perfection!
by Deborah A. Bowman
cropped-antique-quill-and-ink3.jpg

In response to a recent widow on Twitter…

I suffer with you now, two years later.
Grief doesn’t die, it only softens.
We change, alter, and get stronger.
We remember when odd little things happen.
You never know what will touch your heart.
It didn’t have to be perfect. Is it ever?
All you know is you’re never apart
As long as there is love!

In Our Time of Need…

sword-shield-illustration-grass-land-under-blue-sky-flowers-texture-means-peace-no-war-52085587
The Chivalry of Yesteryear

King Arthur, I summon thee
To return with Merlin in tow.
Come to our aid and see
Earth destroying itself as we go.
So much has happened since you went away
And promised to return.
Now is the day!
We evolved and made great strides to learn
That we really know nothing at all.

medieval armor
Welcome Arthur Back to the Round Table!

–Deborah A. Bowman, poem and design

three kings figurines
Memories of the Season: We need three wise men!

 

 

 

 

 

‘Tis the Season … There’s Always a Reason!

rain of snow in town painting
Even in the coldest heart, there is warmth.

It was I who was filled with doubt…

I, who never thought there was a route

That would negate…

The reason for the season.

And yet it happened

Or tried to happen.

I lost the rapture.

lighted string lights

I lost my way…

I let the pain of loss

Toss me into self-imposed exile.

I would withdraw; I would defile

The reason for the season.

shallow focus photography of religious figurines
Photo by Jessica Lewis on Pexels.com

It started with my antique nativity scene.

Just one decoration to calm me.

One reason for the season as balm.

The birth of life in the face of death.

But somehow, unwillingly, the rest

Of my meagre symbols just followed.

 

cold snow holiday winter
He loved snowmen!

A top hat, a woolen scarf, a carrot for a nose,

But it was the coal-filled eyes and etched smile

That reached into my cold heart and rose

Like a beacon of light through the darkened miles,

Bringing warmth to my emptiness.

 

bonfire burning burnt campfire
The yuletide log burning bright into the night.

Something thawed or I was left in awe

Of the reason for the season.

It was so much greater than all my pain!

My boycott faded like snow emerging from the rain,

Soft white petals of cleansing snowflakes.

person holding a snowflake
A snowflake to remind me.

A whisper of breath through a shadowy room;

Bright white candles to dispel the gloom,

A reason for the season.

And suddenly I knew he was with the angels

And watching me caress the snowmen

As I had touched his cold hand for the last time.

The widow smiled through her tears

And tucked away her anger and fear.

I will never be alone

For there are many reasons

… For the season.

It was a year ago…

But just as poignant today.

Never let go of the reason for the season.

advent advent wreath burn burnt
The lights of Christmas.
20191130_213833
This is my living room today!

 —Poem and final photo by Deborah A. Bowman