Sacred Ground

desert and palm

What makes a place, a holy place?

sometimes soft with peace,

sometimes with thunder?

He always seems to meet with prophets,

in a remote place, a desert,

on the mountain, a rock,

special people?

no like us, just people,

I can understand God living,

in the Rocky Mountains,

but in New York City?

He is everywhere,

but perhaps, He meets with us,

in the remoteness of the earth,

in those special places,

because, it is there that we listen,

we can hear better,

the Lakota knew that,

the prophets heard that,

they heard God,


in the calmness,

without distractions,

in the rocks, and in the sand.

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google


sunrise on the lake

I’m not a photographer,

but there is something special,

about the creation waking up,

people coming alive,

I will never forget,

my children being born,

my love coming down the aisle,

the day He made me new,

how He taught me,

to love instead of judge,

respecting others,

rays of light being born,

in me.

I love a sunrise,

may there be many,

many more.

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

image from google


sun with rocks and water

Pouring into a poem,

life, all you had,

saying with words,

your heart a painting,

dancing with feathers,

love from her love,

always pouring into,


a page, a post,

creation, trees guiding the way,

a stream, a mountain,

discovering new ways,

the Creator,


to understand us,

more than likely,

half filled,

sometimes empty,

how can I be?

praying for more,

and disappointed.

What do I write about?

Pouring into a poem,

life all you had….

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

image from google

Tears for Kientepoos

This is some of the most beautiful flute playing I have ever heard. The flute in this video is larger than others I have seen her play, and it has a deep, rich sound. I do hear lamenting in the song, but there is also tremendous peace. It is tangible and real. I also think of nature when I hear this. Sheer beauty! There is alomst no commercial on this either. Have a great week!

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Commentary © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

video from youtube

A Police Officer Reconsiders

Contemporary Microfiction

Note: Our world is often a violent place, and there is violence in this story as a police officer does what he can to protect people. Please don’t read it, if you think it would disturb you.

“Drop the knife!”, he was yelling at the top of his lungs now. “I said drop the knife!” Officer Chuck Roberts, had his 9mm pointed right at the man, center mass, right at his chest, finger on the trigger. Fifteen rounds could be pumped into the man’s chest in a matter of seconds. “C’mon cop!” “Pull the trigger!” The crazy man was taunting him now. “We need to die…..” “He he, we neeeed to die.” His yellow-white teeth, and the knife, glistened in the street lights. Was that blood on the knife?

The man had to be insane, his eyes were glowing red, as he waved the knife from side to side, pleading with Chuck to pull the trigger, and to put him down. Fortunately Chuck was twenty feet away, and was in no hurry to end the man’s life. The man had stabbed a waiter, just five minutes earlier for no apparent reason. Back up was on the way, but if the man charged him, he would be forced to end the whole thing. As Chuck watched the man he noticed blood on the man’s chest, but it was not from the waiter. He could clearly see stab wounds. The man had stabbed himself!

A cruiser was screaming down 9th street, sirens blasting, another was coming from the west, down Elm Avenue, and 2-3 more could be heard coming from the north. Chuck began to calm down and took his finger off the trigger, but maintained his aim. The man just stood there, smiling and waving the knife. When the cruiser from 9th street pulled up they slammed on the breaks, and pointed the headlights, at the man with the knife, which he then dropped, and he took off running. Chuck and Officer Carol Johnson tackled him two blocks away, and managed to get the cuffs on. Blood was everywhere, fortunately the ambulance was just around the corner.

Two hours later Chuck was still at the station doing the paperwork, when his cell phone rang. “Dad?” “Is Mom alright?” His father never called. “Son, I just heard what happened tonight, were you involved?” “Yes, but I’m alright, sort of.” With that last part he knew he gave it away. He was not alright, and his father would know that for sure.

“Son I don’t want to sound preachy, but remember how you loved Africa.” There it went, the bomb he was dreading. “I know Dad, I know.” “The Peace Corp. could still use you son.” Chuck was silent for a long time. “I’ll think about it”, was all he could say. He knew his father wanted to say more but didn’t, especially after what happened last month.

At about 3:00 am Chuck made it back to his apartment, with a splitting headache. He was glad he had taken leave for the next ten days. He needed the time to think. After taking some aspirin, he hit the hay. He woke up with the same nightmare he had every night. He heard himself yelling, “Drop, the gun!” The man turned to face him with a sawed-off shotgun. Four shots rang out from his own gun, and the man fell. He sat up drenched with sweat, yelling until he woke up.

The shooting last month was ruled as justified. Even the media applauded him, and called him a hero. The same bank robbers had shot and killed a security guard three weeks before. The fact was though, he didn’t want to be a hero, not like that anyway. He had killed a man.

As he went for his morning jog through the park, he realized that the main reason he became an officer, besides wanting to help people, was that he wanted to marry Jenny. His dream of the perfect life had never materialized. She said no thank you, and broke his heart.

Maybe he should consider….. Africa….. He could help people, but in a different way. He could help them with horticulture, which he loved. And….. he loved the people.

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

My Love

fire in love

This is a Love in Ten Sentences challenge given to me by Erika Kind. I had done one, a couple of months ago, and had a different focus. The word love has to be in each sentence, and there needs to be four words, in each of the ten lines. Some say you should write what you know – so due to the most beautiful woman on the planet (my wife) – here it goes!

Love is a relationship,

our relationship is love,

what an awesome love!

Her love is faithful,

my love is faithful.

Love strengthens us,

love removes our fears,

love increases our faith,

love never grows old.

She love’s my gray!

Since I nominated people last time, I only have two this time to nominate:

Dom at Black and Write

Esther at Hortus Closus

 Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

image from google

The Black Bear

black bear on ridge

The American Black Bear is the most numerous species of bear in the world. There are hundreds of thousands of them in the United States, and more in Canada. At one time they ranged throughout North America, and into Central America. Their range now spans heavily forested, sparsely populated areas in North America, which includes, Canada, the East Coast Mountains, the Pacific Northwest, the Rocky Mountains, and some of the Southwest, United States. They are endangered only in Mexico. Their range also includes a small portion of Central America. There are bears not far from where I live!

The American Black Bear is closely related to the Asian Black Bear. Surprisingly, it is not very closely related to the two much larger species of bears in North America, the Polar Bear, and the Brown Bear. I have seen these bears up close, and had a friend that went way too close, when the bear was hunting! Please remember these animals may look cuddly, but they are wild and can be quite dangerous. Never feed a bear!


Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

image from google

video from youtube

Learning to Live Again

condo on the beach

Contemporary Microfiction

It was spring now, and he was still angry. How could God let this happen? It didn’t make any sense, and there was no good that could come out of it. The only thing that kept him from drowning himself in alcohol, was that she had been killed by a drunk driver. It had been three months now since the funeral, and the pain was too much, it was endless, and he thought he might die.

He pulled back the curtain from the living room window, and looked at the beach. From seven stories up, he could see for miles, and the horizon seemed to echo his thoughts about an eternity of pain. Then he noticed a couple walking parallel with the waves, along the beach, holding hands. He closed the curtain quickly.

People meant well, including his father, who had sent him here to get his head together. He needed to get out of town anyway, get some fresh air. No matter where he was though, he was miserable. He went to the grocery store that afternoon, hoping to lose himself in the routine. Should he go out to dinner tonight? And maybe later go to the Purple Haze Café? No that was out. He would cook up a vegetable omelet, without the mushrooms, and stay at the condo.

For the next two days he avoided the beach. He stared at the walls, and sometimes watched TV. He knew he was being stupid, but he needed time to think. How could he live without Susan? He tried the curtain in the living room again, and as he looked out, he had to admit it was beautiful.

Instead of fixing himself dinner that evening, he went down in the elevator, and out the condo door, to the sand and the waves. No wonder he had resisted coming out here. He hadn’t wanted comfort and peace, and here it was now staring him in the face. He started taking deep breaths. Why was it nature was like this? Offering what he didn’t have, and what he needed?

Instead of sitting down, he decided to walk, close to the waves. He took off his shoes, and couldn’t help but notice the freedom, of his own bare feet. He walked, thinking about how he could straighten himself out. Should he try yoga? Therapy? His father thought so. He hated the idea though of talking to a stranger, somebody who was qualified simply from a college degree. No, not that. He walked for miles, losing track of the time. He did actually pray some, well a little. All he said was, “You’ll have to help me with this one.” “This is too much to carry, way too much.” And that was it, that’s all he said.

As he walked back, towards the condo, for some reason he thought of going to church. His mother would love that! He had not been in years. Was there a Catholic church around here? He would find out. Tomorrow was Sunday after all. Maybe after the service he could talk to the priest. He could ask him….well he could ask him…..about forgiveness. He felt like he was digging himself out of a deep pit, but at least he was making the effort.

 Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

The Strength of the Mountain

mountain and lake

There is a calling in each of us,

to find the mountain,

the treasure,

the place of beauty and peace.

In the mountain,

we can see past,

the pine trees, the oaks,

the owls greeting us,

beyond the physical,


in the crevices,

we can find the treasure,

buried in us.

If I look deep enough,

if I dig into my soul,

I find the answers,

walking through the serenity,

the rivers and streams,

rocks for strength,

I see clearly,

looking up,

there are no limits.

If there is a storm,

there is always a refuge,

a path,

that leads to His strength,

the source of life.

I want to live, in the mountain,

He has given me.

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

image from google

Renewed in the Clouds

hawk wings

Have you ever flown with wings that take you,

far above the heavens, and beyond words?

in the quiet of the clouds, there is oneness.

I’ve never heard a cloud speak,

except in the anger of thunder,

and even then it is brief.

I need to soar into the mist, and see,

to see with different eyes, clear eyes,

what it’s really like,

the earth from the heavens,

the beauty of living in the sun,

while breathing in the air of peace,

soaring above words, above the strife,

seeing creation, and the people,

connected again.

Where there is no war, and the battle,

has been won.



Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

video from youtube