Speaking of Spirit

  As I sit typing this, I can hear the marching cadence rolling off the brick walls of the high school as the bands leave for the annual Memorial Day parade and services. For the first time in a long while, I am unable to attend, not because the weather is bad, it is a gorgeous day out, but because the pain in my body is at the scream level. So, rather than deplete my limited resources more, I opted to stay home and write. With over 65 years of accumulated life experiences and wisdom, there is one thing I know, absolutely - Freedom isn't free.  In my family alone, there are hundreds of men and women who gave their time, their energy and their lives to allow us the freedom to have a day off. What saddens me is that too often the purpose of this day is forgotten in the opening of cottages, the barbecues, the beach parties.  In the last twenty-five years, I have seen fewer and fewer young people come to honor our fallen military members. But what is worse, fewer and fewer eve

(c) 2017 Rev. Linda M. Rhinehart Neas Since childhood, I have had a fascination with the Moon. I remember taking walks along the beach and my mother pointing out the Moon to me. She told me that, like the Sun, the Moon was always with us. As I grew older and studied, I learned many facts about the Moon. I also learned many legends and myths.   The Moon is most often, in indigenous cultures, seen as a female entity, which counters the common belief of "the man in the moon."  I find great comfort in the idea that Grandmother Moon is watching over me and those I love. I also love the idea that as I am looking at the Moon, a loved one far away can also be looking at it, creating an invisible connection from one soul/heart to another.    As a writer, I have written many poems about the Moon.  One of my first was:   LUNA CONFESSIONS   Stepping into the Confessional of Night  The Heart opens.  Dreams too real to believe in  Come pouring out.  The silent Confes