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Battered by the storms of life, she sought refuge under a log that had drifted ashore. The boat had gone down under the intense pounding of the waves against the hull of her hard head. She was going to do it ‘her way’. And, so it was. She did. Without listening to others, she sculpted her future, her figure and her career. Beautiful, yet not adored; Adorned yet untrue set on a mission of success built from mental strain and determination, she pushed the mentally fragile ones aside, refusing to allow their intrusion into her thoughts. With steel eyes and a hardened heart, she pushed aside emotion laughing at reproach. She was right; her life proved it was so. Setting sail alone; this fair weather queen adorned her own bow for there was no need for another. Everyone knows that a craft has but one bow needing to be adorned. She did it herself. She sailed up and down the coast keeping close in to shore to be sure to be noticed her time was all taken. 

“Surely,” she reasoned, “A tight schedule proves ones worth; therefore, I am valuable.”
So, she sailed. Back and forth year after year up and down the coastal waters rightly adorning her craft with herself. At first there were onlookers, gazing from ashore. Novelty demands attention. But, soon they were called to their own purpose and turned from hers. Ah, she stacked up fleeting moments one upon another; pressed into short relationships without depth. Together they almost mounted to something; yet in the rain of time they melted. 

Without an audience, who would dance? Without onlookers, why adorn yourself? If no one cares, why take the boat out at all? So she tied it to the dock in the fall and paid a mooring fee. For, who knows, perhaps she will be sailing again next season? There is a cost to being tied to a stable relationship. And, for a while, she paid it. 

But, when spring came and the flowers began to bloom, there was hope in the air. She went to the dock and visited her vessel. She buffed and waxed; contemplated and mulled ideas; to stay tied for another year or launch out once more. Surely there was some new audience that needed to recognize the beauty of her stature. Amidst fair weather, she set a course due East; fixing her gaze upon the horizon she sailed into unknown waters. Without a compass, she followed her reason. Without compassion for those she left behind, sailing away was easy. A hard heart can know no other because in order for a heart to connect to someone else it must be softened to have the strands intertwined with the other one. Hers was as a stone; she was used to tossing it into the boat whenever she desired; and sailing off into the wind of her whim. 

She ran aground at midnight at ‘who knows where’. How could she know? There was no compass and the lights had gone out long ago. Recognizing she was in a perilous position having the boat torn from asunder, she prepared to drown. Saying her prayers, and taking a final gasp of the night air, she jumped overboard. Her body prepared for the worst, she was surprised that the water was not cold, but warm. With plenty of air in her lungs it was a natural inclination to push off the bottom when her toes reached it with their extension. And, the push was just enough to bring her to the surface. Aha, what do you know? The shore was right there. Why would she opt to drown when she could swim ashore? Pride, remorse and refusal to face what she had turned her back on? Were they reasons enough to die? It was her choice; and, who would know? She could make it seem as though it was not her fault; being a victim of circumstances. After all, she was aground on a rock. The caption could read, “She went down between a rock and a hard place”.

Yet, she went ashore and hid from herself on an island in the middle of nowhere alone amidst the storm and buried her face in remorse hating herself for being who she was. The devil taunted her in the unmet dreams of her desire until the sun came up. 

Hearing a noise, she squinted her eyes to see a vision appearing in some distance and growing ever near. As much as she tried to hide her eyes; who can hide from a vision? The man with deep wrinkles in his face came right up to her and held out his hand. Without a word, she took it. He had no request from her. She could be anyone she wanted with him. So, she left her past behind and went fishing. Sure, the wreckage was in the distance, but neither of them mentioned it. 

And, the wreckage has become a breeding ground for new fish. So, the old man and the lost sailor dine and share with others on the Island of Runaground around the fires of delight in a place where the only expectation that they have from one another is being who they really are. 

By Sheri Hauser 

On the same day at the Battle of Nun, there came together nation against nation, world against world. “Kingdoms at arms,” they called it; for there had never been a battle such as this and there would never be again. 

With a mighty show of strength those who had been pushed back locked arms in a line. Their numbers dwindled by the tenacity of the battle over such a long time. Wild animals had consumed many in the Forest of Have Not. What they needed never came and they found themselves lost and alone in the overgrown prickly underbrush. Consumed by oppression and torn by despair they curled up into a ball and felt the light slide from their eyes. Taunted daily by the beasts which freely roam within the Have Not forest. The enemy taunts the wants; pounds a nail in the flesh and drives it on in with a crooked branch from a pinning heart of the Forest of Have Not. 

On this day at the Battle of Nun there came together a people of one purpose, united in value. Those with clear eyes pure desire and no remorse; the few who clung to the vision of winning. They had lost their guns and ammo long ago having traveled far across uneven territory and muddy canals. The weight of the man made weapons having grown heavier with each step until one by one their rifles and bullets were flung aside to rust in the Forest of Have Not. And, the forest let out a wicked laugh for it had gained and they had not. Surely, they had thrown away their last hope. Who could win without a weapon? 

But, these soldiers trekked along through muddy waters with wet boots more worried about their ability to press on than what they had thrown aside. Convergence of tenacity and wonder of energy they banned together and moved on through the Forest of Have Not. 

Then came the day of the Battle of Nun a confirmation of eternal significance. For, when the few gathered arms and overlapped elbows they gained strength from one another. 

A brave one took the lead, grasp a bleeding hand and pressed forward through the thicket. Day after day they placed one foot in front of the other seeking their deliverance and looking toward salvation. 

All at once the leader gave a call, “I see it: Come follow me!” And, the rest tagged along. 

What man of fortitude and bravery unsurpassed to take the lead at such a time as this. For, indeed he was the furthest into the Forest of Have Not refusing to look back, yet clinging to those who needed hope and help to get out. 

Wild animals howling in the proximity and thunder clouds crashing overhead, they ducked and dashed amidst the tall trees. Shielded in the shadows of the almighty, they passed through with agility. 

In the few final steps each one recognized that there was a reason he had tossed aside his weapons because there was no way to hold the very thing he assumed would protect him and to hold the hand of another. Their arms had become the arms of someone else. 

With a shout the leader lifted his arm holding his red feathered cap high for all to see, “We’re here!” 

They had reached the Field of Abundance. On the edge of the field, each paused for a solemn moment gazing back at the place now become history: the Forest of Have Not. The Field of Abundance open before them was an amazing sight, yet the trauma of the run continued to hold them in a frigid state. Memories of fatigue, hunger and hateful eyes of oppression had burned deep within their soul, paying their toll. And, there was recognition within each of these ragged soldiers that he needed to make a clear choice to face the Forest of Have Not or to face the Field of Abundance; to cling to the pain or embrace the change. 

Within the pregnant pause two soldiers let go of arms and fled in fear returning to the Forest of Have Not. Grown accustomed to being without, they were not prepared to be in a state of with. This is the Land of Have; the place where you never thought possible, is; the culmination of the dream; the door of the answer to the question: The birth of the expectance. 

And, in that day at the Battle of Nun, the enemy lost 100 to 1 because the soldiers found that just beyond the ridge a mighty army was waiting and prepared. So as they continued their footed flight just rounding the corn patch with enemies on their heals a little behind, a new army came from behind the ridge. They had waited for such a time as this. They wedged themselves in between the Soldiers and their enemies slaughtering the to the last one. 

The soldiers stopped running and kissed the ground and hugged one another in amazement. In accordance to the decree of the King, each one was given a portion of the land according to his acts of bravery during his time in the Forest of Have Not. In addition, the King gave the army to protect them from their enemies. 

Now the soldiers don’t need to run and they don’t need to fight. They need not fear the enemies of the Forest of Have Not because they live safely in the land of Have in the Valley of Abundance. The Forest of Have Not is always nearby, but they can choose to avoid it by staying in their Land of Have being protected by the Army of the King. 

But, what of the two soldiers who returned to the Forest for fear? 

Oh, out of love two brave soldiers took the army with them and returned to the Forest of Have Not on special mission. Secretly at night they slithered into the darkness on their bellies and found the lost ones forlorn, torn and moaning in the distance. No enemies were near because they assumed the battle was won over these two. They heard the echoes of the spirit moaning as the two cried in the wilderness. And the enemies reasoned, that as long as they heard the cries, they knew they didn’t need to pursue them because they were bound by their own grief. 

But, when the two brave soldiers came with their army, they too followed the moans of the spirit to the forlorn ones. They were not afraid because they recognized the moans of the sad soul lost in the Forest of Have Not; they were echoes of their own soul in a time they had known before. 

Rapid as a flint to light they tossed their friends over their shoulders and carried them out. Boldness and strength unmatched guarded by those given to protect they carried their friends out of the forlorn situation before their enemies realized the moaning had ceased. 

When the enemies recognized the moans were no more, they ran to the place they had stashed their foes in the Forest of Have Not and were met with their own vision of Have Not. In anger they blamed one another for their lack of attentiveness. But, who would have suspected that those freed would come back to the place they had been bound to free their friends? Enemies never free one another, so the thought was never on their mind in the Forest of Have Not. 

There was a whirlwind of anger and agitation in the Forest of Have Not and a spark caught wind to become a raging fire which quickly engulfed the entire region. 

And, there was nobody sent to put out the fire. None was sent to rescue those engulfed in the flames. Why would anyone want to put out a fire which was to destroy a forest of want? Let the fire consume the Forest of Have Not. 

So, it burns to this day. 

 by Sheri Hauser

Bottled for a Time

I put in on the north shore and drifted with the west wind
A kid came by and checked me out
I put in at the beach again and rolled with the waves
A surfer paused then sailed on by.
But she returned to see me, and we said, “Hi”.
I put in again amidst tall waves and floated for miles rising and lowering
with each crest of the wave.
I rounded the bend on time to be picked up by the ferry crew.
They looked me over and kept on going leaving me adrift amidst and fully intact
Then my time finally came and I washed up to shore.
The tide went out and I was no more.
Time in a bottle had come to me with no retreat
Its due.