The Writers Tub of Thoughts

~As a writer my mind is always entertaining thoughts, my mind is never still. When alone I write in my mind. When with other individuals, I watch, yes, I watch you and write in my mind.  These blogs are the random thoughts I write in my mind when I am alone going through my daily routines, the ideas and thoughts that do not fit into my other aspects of my writing life. Believe me these thoughts are random!~

One of my favorite rooms of my home is my master bath. The private place where one can soak in the tub and relax. Herein lies the problem, once I am relaxed in the tub, my mind takes off nothing to ninety and stays in overdrive, my best writing is in this delightful peaceful place where my body completely relaxes and my mind speeds through the thoughts filled with deep emotion and inspiration.

So what's the trouble? Once I step out of the tub all of those great pieces begin to slip away not matter how I attempt to cling to each intriguing bit, they all seem to swirl down the drain in the whirlpool of water off to a wasteland of wasted thoughts and words.  Never to be rescued from the depths of a sea of which exists only to steal our finest thoughts; a sea of lost mental pictures and deeply felt thoughts, left to remain estranged from the pages for eternity.

I do wonder, where is my submergible, completely waterproof laptop? The one with the affordable price tag?

Funeral flowers

Gasping, she fights. The air around her seems too thick to pull into her aged lungs.
She hears voices, though can not lure her elderly eyes to focus.
Later she awakens to her daughter sitting in a hospital chair across from her bed.
"Hi", she croaks from her bed. I look and smile. "Well, hello Mom" I respond as I walk to her side, lean over the bed rail and kiss her cheek.
" I had the most awful dream about an angel with black wings." I was sitting on the a rope above a black hole in the earth and he was making the rope swing and...."
"shhh I whisper, you are here and safe." I pick a tiny black feather from her white hair and place it unseen in my pocket.
I cover her with her new throw I just finished crocheting.
"Oh, how beautiful " she says. With a confused look she says"It smells of flowers"
I just gaze at her thinking,yes, it smells deeply of old funeral flowers.

copyright@jadedlabyrinth

The Angel of Death

She walks the tight rope between life and death. Teetering along the way for awhile. Tired, unable to take the pain any longer , she decides to fall.
Leaning out on the tight rope wanting to let go........life calls back to her. Now frozen in time she refuses to move. Panting and sweating, tears falling from her eyes. She struggles to keep her balance.


Lowering herself she sits on the rope desperate to make her decision. Time stands still. Her mind races trough her life, did she close out her life as she wanted? Did she really live to the fullest? Did she love deeply? Did she cherish each moment? The rope begins to slowly and slightly swing beneath her.


I sit quietly with yarn in hand crocheting and watching the beauty form in my fingers. A soft stir of wings diverts my attention. I look up and meet the face of the Angel of Death. Neither male nor female, with beautiful features. Dressed in a white bellowing shirt made of a fiber I do not recognize. Black pants and black knee high boots. The smell of flowers is over whelming . The smell of funeral flowers fill my senses. I turn back to my work and continue to direct my yarn.


In a deep not spoken and not sung, whispered yet projected voice the Angel says, "I'm waiting on your Mother witch. My eyes meet the angels. "No kidding?" I reply. "So am I,waiting and pondering.


Shifting raven black wings the angel leans forward to look at me closer. With a small tilt of the head the angel asks "Can we speak for a bit?" "Most living fear me and it's not every day I find a living soul to chat with." "I indeed become a bit lonely at times."
My blue eyes meet the angels jaded green eyes. I lean forward and inches from the angels face I say "You chose to walk the labyrinth of death for eternity, tell me why angel"


The small space we are in fills with musical laughter and the angel rocks with amusement."Don't play with me witch!" You know why"
"Yes, I know, but you haven't laughed that hard for over a hundred years."I reply.
We sit and talk for a bit and and must say I really enjoyed the company. The grim reaper calls out and I know the angel is needed else where. I take the angels right hand in my left and run my other hand down a soft black wing. Locking eyes I whisper, "When you come for me can I fight you tooth and nail?" "Make you carry me off screaming and kicking?"
With a smirk the angel says,"You wont, you know to much to put up a fuss!" "With you,when it is your time, I will come and you will take my hand and walk into the light with me; laughing and chatting like the old friends." Again the small space fills with musical laughter and I join in this time.


The Reaper clears his throat and the angel kisses the top of my head, swings swiftly away and flies into the darkness. I turn to the Grim Reaper and blow him a kiss. He grunts and mumbles a complaint. Your so cute when your pearly white cheek bones turn pink I call out to him.


"Knock it off Witch" he bellows. You know I can't smile with out muscles and it is not nice to torment the Reaper.
With a giggle, just a tinny tiny bit on the wicked side I return to my yarn. Thankful for the friendship and diversion from my own emotions, for the short time it lasted anyway. Thankful for my yarn to keep me from going off the emotional edge.


Beginning a double crochet row I again begin the wait, as my Mother walks the tight rope between life and death.

copyright@jadedlabyrinth

Dancing through life to the most beautiful tune! My life!

Swept up in the joy of her life, she swirls through the day, dancing to each perfect second.
Breathing in each experience. Delighted by each smile, frown and expression thrown her way. Elated by each emotion felt.
Full of high-spirited delight when her eyes fall upon her family and friends! Each day perfect, never gaged by good or bad. Each day held in high regard, deeply felt and lived.
Ahhhhh......life, the very essence of life......how blessed!
The tune of life danced with each beat of her heart.........I love my Life!