In Other Words: When the Pillars Shook

In Other Words

This post is in response to Patricia’s Quote Challenge/ In Other Words.

Patricia’s contributors are asked to take a quote and from it create a post of our own.

This week’s quote is:

“When they discover the center of the universe, 
a lot of people will be disappointed to discover they are not it.”
Bernard Bailey

When the Pillars Shook

by JE Lillie

Uzziah was gone! He may have been a leper. He may have been a fool. But he was my king and more than that he was my friend. I wept for days until the tears would come no more and then I sealed myself in my chamber.

I tried to pray. I arose every morning to the Shema. It had never been just words before but now words were all I had left, vain repetitions, little more than the chanting the pagans did in their temples. I  felt guilt. I felt anger. I felt abandoned.

For months I struggled on like this. The Great King was silent. I snivelled my prayers day by day growing weaker in faith stronger in blame. Grimly I thought to myself, “And so ends the great prophet.”

It was a morning like every other. We were nearing Sukkot. I arose feeling no great joy in the upcoming celebration. I began to mumble the words of the prayer as I had every morning since my bar mitzvah.

“Sh’ma Yis’ra’eil Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Achad.”

Something stirred beneath my feet. I looked down to see what I had stepped on that had unsteadied my stance.

” Barukh Sheim k’vod malkhu…”

And the world as I knew it was suddenly gone. It was as if a curtain had been pulled back tearing away the darkness of my room. I was in the temple or a place that looked like the temple. The air was filled with the thick smoke of incense. A fire burned on the altar of incense and behind that stood the Great Ark unveiled

I grasped my chest and inhaled violently in fear as I realized I was looking on the forbidden place. I covered my eyes but the smoke came alive and ripped my hands from before my face even as the pillars of the temple began to convulse.

The doors to the Holy place flung open and Adonai entered. His train was the smoke and the smoke was his train. It encircled Him like a shield and His eyes were the fire. Every step of His was an earthquake and every movement the explosion of a thousand suns. I was blind but could see more clearly than ever before. I stood at attention before him quivering and at the same time was prostrate on the floor shrieking.

“V’ahav’ta eit Adonai Elohekah b’khol…”

My words were drowned out by the shuddering of the walls about me as The Nameless One gathered himself to His throne atop the mercy seat. The golden cherubim came to life and spread their wings as four creatures more alive than anything on Earth cried with the voices of a thousand waterfalls, “HOLY!”

All my dry dust prayers blew away in the sound and the fury that was Heaven and I cried,

“Woe is me! I am undone!”

Of course I wasn’t really. The angel came and burned away my wickedness with fire from the altar and instead of dying I was commissioned.

One thing I have learned is that life will last as long as we shake in time with the pillars of that temple rather than trying to walk to our own rhythm.

Friday Fictioneers: Behind the Bamboo Curtain

Here is another posting for Rochelle’s Challenge, FRIDAY FICTIONEERS. This challenge involves writing a 100 word story from a photo prompt provided by Rochelle. You can click the underlined link to read Rochelle’s story and those of her contributors.

The photo prompt  and my story are below:

PHOTO PROMPT - © ceayr

Photo by: ceayr

Behind the Bamboo Curtain

by JE Lillie

My memory is long. As far back as I can remember it has always been me vs. him. Nephew vs. uncle. Reynard vs. Isengrim.

We have amassed and lost fortunes to each other. Throughout history The fox has  outwitted the wolf. The wolf has overpowered the fox. He is stronger. I am smarter.

  I think though, I have finally lost. He has trapped me behind this bamboo curtain. The magic woven in keeps me in human form. To weak to transform I cannot heal from the knife he has thrust in my back. Reynard, the fox, at last is dying.

 For more on Reynard the fox…

 

The Secret Keeper’s Prompt 21: Soul Warning

THE SECRET KEEPER has launched prompt #21. Click the underlined link to find all the poetry and stories associated with this week’s prompt.

The Challenge Words are:

| SILENCE | EYES| HEART | DRUM | LIFE |

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Soul Warning

by JE Lillie

Hidden drumbeats

In silence speak.

The heart sees that

Which eyes cannot.

My soul warns me,

“Save your life man!”

I never learn.

’28’ Form poetry

The Secret Keeper: Prompt #20: Free Fall

The Secret Keeper has released prompt # 20. You can click the underlined link to find all the poetry and stories associated with it.

Our Prompt Words this week are: | WIND | SPEAK | FREE | START | FIGHT |

This week I am writing a Cinquain:(2 – 4 – 6 – 8 – 2) five line poem on any theme with the earlier mentioned syllable pattern.

Free Fall:

by JE Lillie

I speak.

My words fight free.

Start their upward journey.

Facing wind, flight falters.

Free Fall.

 

Friday Fictioneers: When Grandma Played

photo by: Jan W. Fields

I am sharing from Friday Fictioneers’ prompt once again. Close to 100 writers share stories on this prompt spot hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Please click the link to track their tales after you have read mine below.

When Grandma Played

by JE Lillie

 I was born with a needle in my veins. The “system” had me by the time I was six months old…would’ve kept me to if it weren’t for grandma.

 ADD, ADHD,  oppositional defiance disorder made me a real joy to be around. When I would act up Grandma would just go to the old piano pull out her hymn book and start to play.

She’s gone now but on very stressful days  I can still hear her playing “This Is My Father’s World.” That memory holds me and helps me deal with the men and women I counsel at the center.

The Secret Keeper’s Prompt #19: Give Reason

It’s time once again to respond to the SECRET KEEPER’S LATEST WRITING PROMPT.

Click on the underlined link to see what others have added to the prompt.

Our prompt words this week are:

5) Words: | REASON | BREAK | STAY | GIVE | RAIN |

Shadorma (3 – 5 – 3 – 3 – 7 – 5)
six lines – no rhymes – multiple stanzas [your choice] – just follow meter

Give Reason

by JE Lillie

Give Reason

To the rain. Season

Of breaking

Stay silent

No more. Speak now your purpose

And return my joy.

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Friday Fictioneers: The Most Important Thing

PHOTO PROMPT © Melanie Greenwood

PHOTO PROMPT © Melanie Greenwood

It’s time to write another bit of flash fiction here at Friday Fictioneers, the place where 100 writers use 100 words to write 100 different stories about 1 picture.

Thank you Rochelle for your time and effort here at Friday Fictioneers. I so appreciate this exercise in word-smithing!

Check out Rochelle’s other contributors by going to her site HERE

The Most Important Thing

By JE Lillie

Les stepped on to his private jet for the first time. He poured himself a drink .

“We’ll be readying for take off in five sir.” The pilot called.

Les sat and buckled in. As his belt clicked into place he was back at the mini-van buckling his son in for the last time.

“I don’t want to go with them Daddy.” The boy said.

“Your grandfather’s a rich man Elias. He can care for you better than I can.” The door slammed shut on Elias’ cries.

The chauffer reached into his robes and pulled out an envelope “The amount agreed upon. Your plane awaits.”

In Other Words: Knowing My Place

In Other Words

I am writing another bit here at “In Other Words” from this week’s awesome quote from Patricia

“There are no passengers on Spaceship Earth.
We are all crew.”
Marshall McLuhan

~~~Spaceship Earth~~~

Please check out Patricia’s place HERE and after you have read a bit consider adding your own two cents into the mix.

Here is my piece entitled:

Photo Credit: flickr.com

Guided

by JE Lillie

When I awoke here I couldn’t move. My arms and legs were like lead weights in the ship’s heavy gravity. After months floating in the juice I had all I could do to breathe and eat never mind move.

Everything about the ship was different and scary. Gravity, light, breathing air instead of liquid and the complex language of the crew. I spent months orienting myself to the point where I could walk, feed myself again and understand what was going on.

The Captain assigned me two guides to help me train for my position on the crew. I count that fortunate. Some of my fellow newbies only got one guide assignment. Theirs was the greater learning curve. Even so guides are just that, guides. Though they start telling you everything like: when to eat, when to sleep, when to get up, by the time it comes to the really big questions like how to live out your purpose on the ship and what your position is on the ship, they can only really make suggestions.

One of my guides manages one of the ship’s many commissaries. He started training me for the work. At first I thought it would be easy. What I found out is that feeding the ship’s hungry is no small task and managing and organizing supplies is a bigger job than I am skilled for.

My other guide is a healer. She is a no nonsense woman who could push dead people back to health given the time and proper equipment. I can’t put bandages on right.

While I am not skilled in either of their professions what I have learned from them in my time aboard ship is that guidance is not so much about similarity with another person as it is about sympathy for another person. In that I have found my purpose. Soon I am to be commissioned as a ship’s counsellor.

This is a link to another great story from Josie Twoshoes http://www.josie2shoes.com/2016/01/no-free-rides.html

Braided:Weekly Writing Prompt 18

This week THE SECRET KEEPER  has given us these five words to help us in our creative process:

| WAIT | MEET | TEAR | ACCEPT | CEASE |

Based on these themes, I have chosen to write a a short story this week entitled:

“Braided”

by JE Lillie

I  gazed into the mirror hardly recognizing the man staring back. My beard had gotten long and gray.The hair that lay over my shoulder in that long braid was threaded with the same silver that speckled my chin. I looked so tired and old. When had that happened?

The answer flew to mind immediately…no delays there. Life had changed a year-and-a-half before when she left to “find herself”. I wept. I shouted. I begged. I threatened. Nothing worked. She packed and was gone.

That’s when I began the fast. I made a Nazirite vow that day. Maybe it was a little extreme. Maybe it was a little Old Testament. Maybe I couldn’t do the sacrifice part with the lamb, but the rest I was determined to accomplish. I was going to show God I was serious about wanting her back.

In those first months I sent flowers and cards. I called her cell and texted when she wouldn’t answer. I spent my mornings and evenings begging God for her return.

About month five, I began to hear that Inner Voice repeat again and again “They that wait on the Lord shall renew their strength.” I studied the verse from Isaiah; Ruminated on it. I learned that the word “wait” meant to be braided together with God, intertwined completely with His will.The day I learned that, was the first day I braided my hair symbolically to embrace God’s will whatever it was.

Somewhere in the journey the fast stopped being about my marriage and started being about me. In the braiding and unbraiding of my hair a hundred times I learned I was not the man I should have been. I stopped crying for her return and started crying for my own return to the true Lover of My Soul.

She was getting remarried to a good friend of ours even as I looked into that mirror and saw the old man before me. That hurt, but I knew one thing. I no longer needed the braid. God’s will had been done and in spite of my pain I was at peace with it. And that was worth waiting for.

I took the scissors and cut through the braid. It was time to move on.

Friday Fictioneers: Looking Into the Sun

It is time once again for Friday Fictioneers. That’s the place where 100 authors share 100 words to tell 100 stories from 1 photograph shared by Rochelle our hostess.

Take a peek at all the stories Rochelle’s contributors have shared from the photo below by clicking the underlined link above.

Here is my story:

Copyright Jean L. Hays

Copyright: Jean L. Hays

Looking Into the Sun

by JE Lillie

I smiled. The movement was as unfamiliar to me, as slow dancing in the rain. Now I had done both of those things.

I ran nervous fingers through my sopping hair and looked at her, the inspiration for smiling and dancing. I sipped my coffee and wondered how it had grown to this.

“You’re quiet.” She said.

She twisted water out of her own curly locks into a hand towel she had hidden in her purse.

It made me question, did she dance in the rain often?

She smiled at me and I no longer cared. It was like looking into the sun.