#wordpicture

[missfliss88]

This is why I love reading and books so much.

In the source article, out of interest, scroll to the - Note at the end - about this quote...... curious!  

(via Read the Hints, Come at Last)

[missfliss88]

Seen While Reading:

‘It wasn’t just the pool, but the women there, that I needed. Older women, with grey hair, and time to swim in the middle of the day. We never spoke, but they’d nod to me; and in my fancy it seemed to me that they knew I’d come among them to be mended. I did  my convalescing in that pool. Lap after lap”

from - Pomegranate Season by Carolyn Polizzotto

[yadayahowah]

Is Mashal 31 Really About a Wife~or Something Else Entirely?~Final Word Picture Four 29 January 2026

Is Mashal 31 describing a wife, or is Scripture inviting us to see a different role within the text itself? Why does the chapter begin with

Is Mashal 31 describing a wife, or is Scripture inviting us to see a different role within the text itself? Why does the chapter begin with a mother instructing the one who will rule, and what does that placement suggest? This episode explores what becomes visible when Mashal 31 is read as a Word Picture rather than a traditional proverb.

00:00:00 ~ Intro ~ Verbatim 00:00:28 ~ “Welcome to our ongoing series.” 00:09:59 ~ “it’s only one man and I’m king after” 00:20:00 ~ “clearly for those without a voice” 00:30:01 ~ “have someone he could confide in,” 00:40:00 ~ “I’m over seventy years old and I’m working” 00:50:00 ~ “by God, you were the sixth” 00:59:59 ~ “would be best for him because it was” 01:10:01 ~ “and demonstrate that we were trustworthy.” 01:19:59 ~ “In addition to all of this, Leah,”

https://yadayah.com/ https://x.com/YadaCraig 🎙️ New to streaming or looking to level up? Check out StreamYard and get $10 discount! 😍 https://streamyard.com/pal/d/6451052384485376 https://linktr.ee/yadayah Music, lyrics, and video provided by Craig Winn, and used with permission from the YAHOWAH MUSIC GROUP through CC 4.0.

Mashal31, Amah, FinalWordPicture, WordPicture, ScriptureContext, SeeingNotQuoting, BiblicalMother, HiddenRole, HebrewContext, CovenantUnderstanding, CraigWinn, YadaYahowah

#Mashal31 #Amah #FinalWordPicture #WordPicture #ScriptureContext #SeeingNotQuoting #BiblicalMother #HiddenRole #HebrewContext #CovenantUnderstanding #YadaYahowah #CraigWinn

[dodapper]

#slantrhyme #nostalgia #words #wordpicture #🎩 #👔 #💊 #🚬 #💉 #🖱 #📃 #⌨ #🛏 https://www.instagram.com/p/CJNG6DFHrZq/?igshid=1ssoso942vsr3

[missfliss88]

Seen While Reading:

One day I was so in the zone with Vita, the road was so smooth and the wind so kind that I cycled two hundred and seventy kilometres in a day. As I swung my leg over the saddle to get off at the end, I was in a completely altered state; as a sailor has sea legs, I had bicycle legs, still spinning as I walked into a truck stop.

from - Cadence by Emma Ayres.(Vita, the name she gave her bicycle, named after the author Vita Sackville-West,)

[cheloniakorupoetry]

Tapestry of My LIfe

Wanting, wandering, weaving and wending, Threads of coarse spun material scratching and scraping, The warp and weft spun of yarn or thread, I would choose silk - but it does not always choose me and really - do I wish my life to be built upon the hapless drowning of so many thousands of helpless worms that never knew that leaf they would munch was to be their last lunch? no - I would not - perhaps I will not prefer silk - it takes too much care and delicate cycles and special detergent and don't snag it - and it is soooo expensive!! Yet it is strong... They make parachutes out of it... Sometimes I am falling and I need a parachute... If I had more silk - maybe I wouldn't die when I hit the ground...

No - the course threads and yarn that weave within - these are maybe not as fine - not as delicate - not as pretty and I find them more often - these - these are stronger. Perhaps made of hemp? What does that say about the wisping vapors of diminishing realities and dimensions that construct the days? Is time really relative? If it is, then how are these threads weaving and wending together? What is this construct - what is this loom that sets me free and binds - all in one more pass of the shuttle? This tapestry - this fabric - this is me and yet it is not. This is not me. This is not mine. This is not myself. This is a picture - this fabric of my life...

Oh This thread is frayed, look how it is worn and broken... how to extract it from this fabric without destroying the design? This fabric of design of mine - of me - of time

Another thread is so thin and stretched look here - it is a wonder that it still holds it's place in this tapestry, And the one next to it so strong I did not see it before - it winds through so many other broken ones... This one serves no more - this broken thread. It is unraveling - it must go - tear - get the stitch ripper - pull and shred the seam - rip the ties that bind it in - release it! Let it go! It's gone - it fell to the floor now it fades from the textile's work... And look!  where it came from - deep in the design - the threads next to it lay bleeding where their broken neighbor was pulled away... But they will heal.  Do they weep at the loss of their torn and broken and now lost sister thread?

Will this tapestry survive the loss of so many of it's parts? Can it survive the constant destruction and recreation?

Look - there are more - so many damaged threads. Rip them out - one by one - tear them out and replace them! or this tapestry serves for nothing - look how weak and ragged it looks - fix it - fix it before it disintegrates and drapes itself dropping upon the fading heartbeat of a dying mind and world  -only a shadow of a haunted house's furnishings that are covered in cobwebs and dust - a tapestry that has lost its youth and beauty and glory - throw it down - down on the funeral pyre of lost and useless things...

No - wait - if I remove this thread - this one - just so - I can save it - it still serves - it was a weft but now it can be a stronger warp - if I place it over here - on the other side I can use this one again - with what shall I blend it... I need more. .. how do I connect this new old thread?

On this end of the tapestry the design is de-constructed - project runway has nothing on me! Take it apart - the whole is nothing without it's parts and when I take out the parts what is left but empty space... that is this life's tapestry - empty space with threads weaving in and out - sometimes I see the design growing and becoming brilliant and I shall hang it over the hearth fire of the great hall in the castle of my mind and all shall exclaim at the artistry and grandeur of this beautiful tapestry of ages - the majesty and brilliance of the colors - the artistic magnificence of the design - I am in awe at my own creation!  Here it is in the middle alone - no one can see the thousands of broken threads I have to rip from the center and follow throughout until every last defective piece is separated from that which serves - that which holds the design together - and as I deconstruct - I have more threads to discard that are hidden below these offending wasted pieces of yarn... how did so many broken pieces get into this tapestry of me?

And each thread I remove leaves an empty space.  and each new and reused thread must have empty space to be - to exist - that which is empty creates my existence - and these threads - they come and they go - I reap and I sow - I weave and I deconstruct and rip out the old to weave the new - this tapestry is me and yet it is not.  this is not me - this is not mine. This is not myself - this tapestry is an empty picture of threads - threads that are dying and leaving and those that are newly weaving - these interdependent threads of me and mine - this sum of my parts in the emptiness of the all being now that is not- this.. a poem of a picture - this tapestry of my life.

~Chelonia Koru