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Abishag the Shumanite

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by J.S. Allenfrom his new book Sirens of Circumstance

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It seems like yesterday.
So unbridled was the way
I left and danced before the Lord,
Naked even to my sword.
Shouting to the trumpet’s sounds
We brought the Ark into the grounds
Of my city. Michael sorely chastised me
For uncovering myself for the maidens to see.
It was before the Lord and all His house.
Therefore did I before the Lord carouse.
No one there cared what I wore
When Goliath’s skull I stoned to gore.
He fell at once, as did the lion,
And hosts opposed to the God of Zion.
I remember well and am ashamed to tell
What mischief roof to roof befell.
Devoted Uriah, Bathsheba’s mate,
I had killed in battle. (I couldn’t wait.)
The Karmic debt was therefore made;
God’s ire was instantly displayed.
Seven days from birth my child was dead
I lived my life in kingly dread.
Soon Bathsheba bathed in court intrigues.
Absolom and Adonijah fell as Solomon succeeds.
Bathsheba slew the surviving males
From my loins leaving their mother’s wails
To fill my nights. Thus do the scales of
Royal justice right themselves.

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But now, in my cold and shivering final years,
God’s clarion call beckons and allays my fears.
I tried my best to serve in holy ways.
Too often, stumbling humanness defined my days.
Now all has passed me by, leaving me thus to freeze,
For days I prayed, I begged for more blankets than these,
Of something warm, comforting, providing heat.
Surprised I was when servants kind placed at my feet
A nubile, young virgin of stunning grace,
Rippling flowing saffroned locks embraced her face,
A body proud; of demeanor regal (and most rare).
When called forth to serve, immediately there.
Of deportment, queenly fit, and efforts loyal,
No one dare question her origin royal.
Her eyes were a piercing blue set in two cups of cream.
Her teeth from Egyptian ivory spoke like smiling beams
Of purest light - floating as an angel in joyous play.
Never have I sped nor sensed a being made that way.
Sure of herself she was. All battles set by her
In fields she knew where well she sallied forth. “Sir,”
She would say in a satined whisper, “Your warmth is here.”
But the twinkle in her eye revealed a joust was near.
Combat with her was a summons to duel.
When challenged her spirit shown like a jewel.
Never did I know her but she always was hot
In continued conversations about what I was and was not.
I should have made the one
Who gave this sweet child to me the crown of Solomon.
I write this from my soul beyond eternity
I did not die but came alive in her caring company.

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Author’s note about “Abishag the Shumanite”
I King 1:1 through 4 (Scofield Reference Bible) “Now King David was old and stricken in years; and they covered him with clothes, but he got no heat wherefore his servants said unto him, ‘ Let there be sought for my Lord the King a young virgin: and let her stand before the King, and let her cherish him, and let her lie in thy bed so that my Lord the King may get heat.’
So they sought for a fair damsel throughout all the coasts of Israel, and found Abishag a Shumanite, and brought her to the King. And the damsel was very fair, and cherished the King and ministered to him: but the King knew her not.”

                                               All rights reserved

OCEAN GRACE 

by J.S. Allen

How like the errant seas you are.

Sometimes close,

Sometimes far.

You leave me shells

To listen to

Your nearness roar,

And I remember.

I have yet

To learn the moon

That moves you,

Shining so bright

Among the stellar stars

When storms

No longer part us.

Here I stand

On this incessant

Strand of sand

Waiting for your tide

To take my hand

And pull me

Back to you.

I cannot help myself.

I love the sea,

Where the scale tailed

Siren sings to me;

Where sailors weep,

To plumb the deep

Of ocean

Mystery.

@ JS Allen, 2007

All rights reserved

Published with permission by Earth Angel Publishing

There is a porch in Avalon

Where days come rushing to,

Chasing the blush of sunset.

Tracked are they by a peeping moon

Arching its mountained backs

Like cats writhing on a carpet.

As day surrenders and shadows dance,

Stars awake, their skies enhance.

Scurrying quail hide from prying eyes.

All unwound whether wounded or won.

Ocean breaths whisper wetly

Sinking softly in the night leaved trees.

It is the time of peaceful Truth.A space for love is left,

The Isle of Is, a Guide to Awakening, is a magical parable written with immense creativity and insight by two authors with complimenting genius, Caroline D. Cottom and Thom A. Cronkhite. Written AND spoken (on the included CD) it is a perfect gift for novice seekers and lifetime journeyers as well. A delightful fairy tale guides readers to their own profound understanding of Divine Presence. This simple story unfolds at multiple levels and would be an excellent read and reread for many years to come. Original metaphors that engage the spirit, heart and senses come beautifully wrapped in a breathtaking cover painted by Jeffrey K. Bedrick.

It will never leave my nightstand.

“Your heart is just like your Chocolate Drawer,” my friend remarks in passing while nosing around my kitchen. I nod my head in the direction of her affections. Her eyes light up; she stops crying.

I pour two fresh cups of chocolate flavored decaf. My dear friend, half heartbroken half relieved, showed up unannounced before dawn. Still in sweats, practicing Yoga with Steven Ross on cable, I answered the door to a tear-stained face seeking solace and comfort.

With a hug and an arm around her shoulder I welcomed her into the sanctuary I call home. I am a Life Skills Coach. With thousands of life-affirming-tools at my disposal, there is one that rarely fails: The Chocolate Drawer. I use it myself. At 5′ 3″ and 120 pounds I alone probably consume twice my weight in any given year. My clients, friends and loved ones use it even more and easily triple that amount.

I hand my friend a piping hot mug but her eyes linger on the milk chocolate See’s rum nougats. “Help yourself,” I offer genuinely. I silently thank the Wild-Divine for small blessings and the power to resist one of my favorites. This time anyway.

Everyone who enters my safe haven is free to try, taste, nibble, eat, gobble, scoff, wolf, gorge, feast, munch, chomp, partake, consume, devour AND take as much as they desire from The Chocolate Drawer. There is only one caveat.