"As the Dragon finished eating the family in a little home, it belched and turned to the angry crowd surrounding it with torches and pitch forks. It belched again, spit out a shoe and said.
"It's not my fault! I am not bad. Yes, I made a mistake eating this family, but they were poor and suffering, really you could say I did them a favor! After all I am powerful and your enemies will fear me, you need me, so you can consider this little problem of mine to be tolerable for all the services I provide."

The obese dragon passed gas, so wretched it killed several of the villagers.
"Oh!" he said, noticing the villagers getting angry
"They were too close to me, it's not my fault. They know I am a dragon and I have a problem I am working on. Just be patient with me."

Most of the villagers agreed, it was their neighbors fault and the dragon was not that bad.
The other villagers left the dragon, made stronger homes, self sufficient community groups, and educated themselves.

After a time the rest of the villagers were eaten or died from poisons excreted by the dragon.

The organized villagers were careful to let the Dragon, no matter how much it roared, boasted and threatened, to slowly starve to death.

No matter how the Corporate Dragon roars, just don't buy it; it'll starve to death. And as the Dragon dies, the parasites that live in and on it will scurry franticly around for another Dragon to inhabit. Let the dragon slayers follow the parasites and let the dragons only be the stuff of stories told to the young.

No matter what happens in our lives, Evil will always lose.
Like corruption, Evil is an empty vessel broken, a thirst never quenched, anger never resolved. Evil is the absence of love, grace and compassion.
When Evil wins it is due to our blindness, our mistaken notion that it wins.
Evil is gluttony of a tortured soul.
Evil is always there but we can work around it.
How to we deal with it? When we see someone lost in Evil we can thank them for showing us what we don't want to do, and remind us of how easy we can fall.
Living in grace ls letting every breathe we take be a prayer for our compassion and understanding. Let every exhale be our commitment to living in grace.
Don't believe it....Live it.
So easy to say and, yet!

Looking down on the moon.
The reflection on water. Light, reflected, dancing in our eyes.
Stars on the water.
Light from stars, galaxies long since passed. Light in our eyes from centuries passed and we harvest it with just a glance or regard.
Reflections in the evening of time. In the moon pool of our mind. Reflections that capture in a moment, an instant of transient experience, the essence of life.
In our mind, the crucible, our Soul may be nurtured. Manna for the Spirit and comfort for the wandering heart.
The moon pool of others is where we may see the reflection of something deeper, something much closer to our silent truth.
Or not.

Seems like we can't wait to get old enough to do the things we want to do and when we are old enough to do them we forget what they were.

What was it that you really wanted when you a little kid? What place did you what to go to before you reached 10 years old?
What food did you always want to eat but your parents never had it or never let you try it?
What was it that you wanted to do when you were 7 or 8 years old?
There is inside of us those unrealized dreams. Like an itch you try to ignore.
Address the itch and as long as it doesn't cause you grief or someone else grief; scratch it!
After all, the clock is ticking!

Driving, 30 years ago, down 395 in Nevada. The road reduced from a ribbon to a line ending in pinpoint. Distance and horizon balanced on a dot never reached, always approached.

Looking out at 12 o'clock. The dot of what may come.
Looking in the rear view mirror at 6 o'clock and seeing the dot on the horizon where we had been. Looking back for an instant we stopped looking ahead or where we are.
We were looking at what was past.
In our 6 o'clock the Devil, taunting us, and if we look back to long, what then?
Eyes, again forward, heart strong, enjoying the talk, the silence, the hum of the wheels on the road, the aroma of the desert, air leaks in the doors and windows hissing,
Being then, was being in the now.
Now, in remembering, I feel the Devil in my 6 o'clock.

Break Right!

Wingfire!