The Hub Bubble Journal

  I had an interesting call to handle this morning. During the course of my regular calls to the line which I offer my service as a psychic reader I received a new caller. This person was so overwhelmed that someone she deeply had feelings for was suffering emotional pain due to loss that she felt a need to reach out with a message of love and support to the gentleman.  Her dilemma is that the person she clearly loves is already in a commitment with all of the trappings that come with being an integral part of an established unity. Though her call did not focus on anything of surprise to me as I receive many just like it her intensity was off the scale to reject any association with responsibility for her own happiness. On the one hand the person of interest concerned was always making everything all about him and pushing her aside. On the other hand she is aware he has past trauma regarding abandonment which he has disclosed to her. That he should take responsibility for his ...

He was the pied piper of dreams. Was the orchestra proud?! Tooting melodies serene; The orchestra sublime, glorious chorus bringing dusk, Pied proud glorious feathers of heavenly shades, Piper tooting chorus of beautiful birdsong velvet; Of melodies bringing heavenly birdsong in harmony, Dreams serene, dusk shades, velvet harmony ends. This challenge was to write a complete square poem of 7 lines x 7 words that display the same words vertically as well as horizontally, but forgiving of necessary punctuation, usually 24 hrs to complete. Absolute fun, not aimed to be a tongue twister though. I just couldn't bring myself to let go of this one. We do take for granted a lot of nature around us, maybe we don't even notice the birds a lot of the time, so to take time to recall the sounds and focus on not just how they make us feel but to bask in the wonder of how it must be for the birds ... to have this marvellous interaction with each other and create such beauty all around simply b...

 Silver embossed hairbrush is duplicated by the mirror its' laid upon for years, surrounded. Guided fingers gently trail around a regiment of trinkets, secrets carefully tucked away where loving eyes buried deeply treasured memories into pinewood dressing table drawer; softly lined with  delicate paper that once wore cascades of a fragrant rose; Pleated now and faded thin as tissue, fingertips breaking the fine layer of fluff causing its dispersal into the daylight rays projecting from the window to bounce each fleck of lint around the mirror, like tiny feathers lost from angel wings. Turning my head towards your picture the sunshine falls hard across my face.  There is no replacement for a person lost from us to this world but they shine through every part of our being. The warmth of a memory can live in any moment of our day.