The mist lies thick and heavy….water drips off my hair, my breath congeals into a cloud.  In the distance I hear the owl calling, answered by the leaves scratching on the bark………  Nowhere, now here –  but where? This place is heaven. The shadows play hide and seek, as the mist flows between the wheathered stems of the thick old oaks. Behind me near the river a wolf howls for its mate, making the skin on my neck stretch a bit tighter. Alone here….. the leaves crunch as I step away from the trail. Maybe today I will glimpse him… that shy creature I have searched for many days gone by.  I crouch to look at the fresh paw print in the mud…. he is like a ghost – silent…  just to show himself of in the glimpse of a ray of sun – brilliant in his white coat – blue eyes sparkling, tongue lolling… just to dash away not even the ferns quivering to tell about his where – abouts… He leads me away from the den, protecting the pack and the new babies, all jostling for a swallow of warm milk…  Slowly I tread through the thick ferns and undergrowth little furballs dodging away…. scuttiling to find safety – away from the smell of human intruding in their domain. Behind me now I hear and smell the jingeling stream,  bubbling over the rocks, calling me back…. there the sun can be caught in the daimond rainbows as the flow breaks over the rocks…  The smell of moss and dead pine needles pricking my senses.  I will find him, I need to see him again, I remember the small ball of fur in my dad’s jacket, the little pink tounge and oh when he opened his eyes the brilliance of those saphires! I miss him at night, the lonliness gets to me, I need to see him…..


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I look up and the two stars blink next to the half moon in the velvet sky.  Dawn is breaking slowly over the mountain crest. The crust of ice crystals transform the garden into a bejeweld and glittering feast.  My breath clouds out of my mouth, I wriggle my hands deeper into my sleeves and stamp my boots to quicken the blood to my feet. Slowly the birds wake up and jump from branch to branch. I brake the bread and leave the crumbs and seeds around for them to find. Far off the first soft rays of the sun touches the early morning making the cold seem that more intense…  Water starts dripping from the roof, running along the icicles and splattering on the stones beneath. I hear the last of the wolves calling the pack back to the hide. Time to go. I swallow the last of my hot coffee, and start walking back to the hut. Steam rises from the lake and wisps drift on through the trees

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Searching for …………..

That wonderfull feeling, the twist in your gut, the flash in your mind, the catch in your breath, the yello in you knees……….  

When do we find it, where do we look?   The inside of your mind, the pages of a book?      Loneliness drags at your heart like a stone cutting down to the bone leaving you hurt and bleeding  your emotions screaming…………..  To find the mate of the soul – giving meaning to entwinement of  happiness and feeling  stopping the bleeding  pulsing out of the emotions screaming  calming the spirit  leading the mind  soothing the body  making you whole                         love does this  protecting and serving  casting the golden glow and warming the coldest corner………. bringing peace and that wonderfull feeling…

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My red cardigan

Never in your wildest dreams you can think where you will be in 20 years from now.  The images blurr around the edges and the detail gets lost in the black void surrounding the unknown….   But here and now the light is warm and the wine is sweet…..

Love surrounds you, even if its a bit scratchy like a long worn cardigan – some fibres got singed in the tumble drier of life… but still its warm and more or less comfy….  A lot better and more agree-able than the cold nothing of loneliness.  That brittle dryness of  the soul. That greyness that can eat away at your sanity and leave you in heap of old bones – creaking and scratching with every step you take.

My cardigan is old, and a bit worn around the cuffs….  but the colour is a deep red, the colour of love…  Sometimes I use the big buttons of  comfort and wrap myself up right up to my chin…. and sometimes I undo them and let the panels flap in the wind as I stride forward into the unkown.  Able to move with freedom, but able to wrap myself back up when I need to keep the wind from my chest….

This cardigan is warm in winter and comfy in summer, it water proof  for the tears that sometimes stain my lapels and has lots of pockets for sweet nothings and nick naks…  It has an inside layer of forgiveness and an outside layer of  unconditional love, so it always fits perfectly….

This cardigan moves with you and stretches when you need the extra space, it shrinks back and lies close to you when you need the warmth and protection.   This cardigan can be removed when you choose, but you will always want to put it back on.  It is easy to care for as it does not ask much.  It is more or less stain resistant and the fibres can take a lot of handling and wear.  This cardigan iis called: …… UNCONDITIONAL  LOVE………

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Be a shelter rather than a sword

There is a thing that makes the world go round.  It makes things happen.  It makes things stop happening. Without it we’d be no-where. It is the commodity that keeps the big old engine running.  It has made all of humanity’s greatness possible.  And unlike every other commodity that erodes and degenerates, this resource doesn’t  run out – it accumulates upon itself as it grows. You can’t buy it, sell it, steal it, or trade it on the floor.  Yet we know it to be the most treasure in all of the world.  It is the sum total of all our knowledge and experience hard won over time.   It is called Wisdom……

I red this a long time ago, and I was inspired….  As this is my quest, my drive, my search, my longing….. will I ever find it, when will I know I have enough?  It is an ache in my bones that I need to fill, it is a yearning in my soul I need to quench, it is a longing in my heart I need to release….

This is why I chose my name:  Brizinger – meaning fire. It cleanses, it warms, it lights up a dark night.  May my words bring comfort, inspire, touch and revitalize your soul so that you can look up, turn back or walk that extra mile.

On the 6th of May 2011 – The Tioga County Youth Choir from Pennsylvania sung these words in the St Pauls Chapel in New York on the commemoration of the Sept 11 massacre:

From the song: ”We will be a shelter for each other”

”Love can build a house that stands forever, stronger than a wall of steel or stone.  We will be a shelter for each other in the storm, and when we come together, we’ll be home.”

and a 10 year old said: ” Home is a place where you are safe.”

My some of my words make you feel safe. May some of my words give you hope. May some of my words inspire you, may some of my words mean something to you.

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