I will ever revere
sunsets. I don't see enough of them. No,
I don't get out and look up at the sky
enough. I am too concerned about my own
little world I guess, too distracted and
distraught at life's little everyday
occurrences. But every now and then I
come upon a sunset unexpectantly, and I
halt in silent awe and
My mind ceases to race
and my chaotic thoughts congeal and
gather peace. The problems and vexations
of the moment lose their weight in the
calm reflections of the departing sun.
My throbbing temples are relieved as the
And I think
to myself, "why don't I do this more
often"? No opiate could perform a
greater respite. It is remarkable the
relief of tension that perfectly natural
wonders provide us. Though of course
they require our response, that's all,
just a simple awareness. There is
something hopeful about sunsets, and
they make us feel the world is
How delightful is the wind.
It is my oft returning friend,
Blowing so gently through the trees,
So soothing is the breeze;
Whistling by my window sill,
Blowing when all else is still,
Sweeping over the fields of grass,
How gently it does pass;
Swift, unseen it goes on by,
Running its errand from the sky,
Howling within the dark of night,
Somewhere beyond my sight;
Twisting in the raging storm,
Countless images the mind does form
As outside the the strong wind does roar,
Falling, then rising more.
The wind both gentle and strong
Unto my fancy does belong.
Wondrous images unto my heart
The fond wind does impart.
Lifting The Human Spirit
Anything that lifts the human spirit is worthwhile. We must make the move to the clouds when we can, else unknowingly we may sink into the mire. Life is a higher thing than we commonly believe. People have been at work for centuries to make life seem like a small and mean thing.
We are part of a magnificent universe which is literally beyond our imagination, and no one who could conceive of its immensity could possibly think of existence in small terms.
The wonders of Creation are ours to perceive. Why are we so blessed? Whatever our role in the universal scene it certainly must be one of importance, for it is given unto us the capacity to comprehend this handiwork.
Without warning comes the storm,
A massive and billowing form,
A thing of power
Which seems with itself at war.
Behold the bright lightning flash!
Hear the rumbling thunder clash!
Know the storm is near,
Know it is almost here.
How dark the sky is growing!
How strong the wind is blowing!
Hear the sound of thunder!
An awesome sight of wonder!
Huge clouds rolling on high!
A majestic scene in the sky!
Coming now with great speed,
It will be a great storm indeed!
The Magic In the Air
Even now the sound is fainter. The time was when I could almost hear the laughter of dawn as I awoke in eager anticipation of the new day. The time was when I could almost hear the flowers whispering little songs of love to one another in the glade.
The time was when I could hear nighttime sounds of joy, and peace, and happiness from all the frogs and insects. There was a time when my ears heard only music in the wind, and when the wind through the trees and grass played a melodious strain. There was a time when sound was sweetness to my heart, and beauty abounded in every sound.
But we awake one morning and the world is sinister, and evil is lurking in every corner. The sounds are threatening and oppressive. People murder, plunder, and destroy. The world is cold, the elements are cruel, and the storms are destructive.
Life is a fever to know, to act, and to be. Simplicity, beauty, happiness all melt away like our childhood dreams. The grim specters of wars and famines stare us in the face, greed, hatred, and jealousy retch our insides, and fear, suspicion, and discontent bloody up our thoughts. Lost is the magic in the air that filled us with ecstacy before we knew better.
The Eternal Questions
It is the purpose of the human soul to ask. It is never wrong to question. All the evil lies in never posing questions. When we cease asking questions our usefulness as a human being ends.
We are given thought to seek solutions. Thought itself is a pyramid of solutions. Our being is vibrated toward discovery. All the motions of the universe have swung us in that direction.
We are to cast a ray of understanding in a dark corner. We are to ask the eternal questions. Our task is to incessantly seek to unravel the mysteries of time and space.
It is our hour. The world has been waiting for us all these many ages. Now it is our day to look around and understand. We have been cast upon the shore by the waters of time. We are as old as the burned out stars of a distant nebula, and yet as fresh and new as a new born baby.
The Epitome Of Womanhood
Could I not love a world that engendered her?
She is fashioned the best of all possible worlds.
The sun is in her hair,
The sky in her eyes,
And roses in her cheeks.
Her smile is more pleasant than a Spring day.
The harmony of her features
Could only be likened to a moonlit night.
Earth is hallowed by the presence of such a fond being.
It speaks well of Creation that she exists.
Fancy could not paint
A fairer image than she.
In that face peace and innocence reign.
She is the epitome of womanhood in all her glory.
The beauty of Nature pales before her.
It is the sole purpose of light to reveal her face.
It is the purpose of sound to carry her voice.
It is the purpose of air that she might breathe.
It is the purpose of the ground as a surface for her feet.
It is the purpose of the world that she might live.
Such fairness is too exquisite
For this cruel world of pain and death.
I shudder to think that she
More glorious than the sun
Is vulnerable to sickness, age, and the grave.
What we love most in people is virtue. It makes them beautiful. It refines their features and their manners. We cannot describe the reason why, but those who lack virtue grate our senses. A kind of falsity is manifest in their actions and shines from their eyes.
Beauty is the complete harmony of the inner and the outer person. This is what we love in people. It strikes our senses with joy and peace. We feel happy in their presense. We trust them. We believe in them. Our heart quite naturally reaches out to them and seeks to be illuminated by them.
Instinctively we sense that they are the noblest work of God, and if there is anything worthy of honor it is they. In our wayward trek through life the encountering of these beautiful souls is the only worthwhile thing.
Friends make all other assets inconsequential. If you have one friend, good friend, you may be poor, stupid, nothing, but yet you are happy, because you have earth's highest prize, friendship. Strangely enough in this fast moving world with all our incalculable ambitions, we lose sight of the importance of friendship which in itself is the entire meaning of life.
Friendship elevates us from our present status to a sphere far beyond anything mean or lowly, to somewhere beyond the animal within us and very near the divine. Every step we take toward friendship dignifies us, while every motion we make toward enmity dehumanizes us.
The encouragement of a friend inspires us to go beyond ourselves, and to act inspite of our fears, doubts, and the obstacles in the way. Friendship in one way or another is the magic solution to our problems.
A friend gives reason and meaning to life, and hope and solace to the downcast. A friend gives faith to the unbeliever, and peace to the troubled. A friend by being present lends warmth to the cold and light to the night.
Friendship can change, heal, and make better overnight what could not be performed otherwise in many years, if ever. Friendship can succeed in doing what force and arms could never hope to do. A friend lifts a burden of sadness with a smile, and instills a vestige of new courage with a word.
The genuine sincerity of a true friend canot help but inspire, uplift, and give new hope. Odd how in the presense of a friend how much brighter the world seems, and how much happier we feel. As if the world were made for us, such is our feeling when we are with a friend.
No more I see the sky
As the extent of my eye,
Now I see only in part,
Closed and forbidden is my heart.
No hope does linger long,
No more dreams to me belong,
I have lost my far sight,
There is left for me the darker night.
No more I see afar,
I have no longer the power,
It has passed away,
What hope I had of future day.
I see only despair,
To me nothing more be fair,
Somewhere along the line
I wasted away what was fine.
Dark is the sky I see,
No light is shining for me;
At one time I could view
Across several worlds or two.
Now cast within my mind
I but a small viewpoint find.
The distant horizon
Is lost with my setting sun.
Perhaps not all hope is gone,
And I will survive until dawn,
And with God helping me
I will the far horizon see.
The Wild Rose
Across the fields of clover the wild rose grows, and I believe, though some may doubt, the air is sweeter there. Day is forever dawning there, and the bees are in love with that brair as all around seems happier too. I walk and I come upon the wild rose as lovely as a bride fresh and beaming in the sun.
From the unkind world I stray and smile upon the rose, and I might be wrong, but I feel the rose smiles back at me. Our life is short from the cradle to the grave. Confusion, anger, pain, fear all our lot until death no more horrible than life seems. Yet, there is the wild rose, a hopeful, beautiful thing, and if the wild rose lives then I think some good is in this place.
Perhaps life can be lived on a plane that serene in which no malice would mar the fairness of each day, and we to our thoughts may turn, and find in them a brightness like onto the rose with never a hint of the gray.
Rainbows are ever that glory just beyond. Viewing a rainbow lifts us from our earthly condition, and we travel in fancy to to what might have been, or to what might yet be. A rainbow seems to say life is better than we suppose, and seems to proclaim victory.
Rainbows make us cognizant of life's glory, revealing that all is not mean and lowly, and that a human being may rise higher than the clouds if he has faith. Desperation is not seen in the rainbow as it denies all the evil that men have hinted at, and puts away the doubt that hangs about us.
Believe, this is the rainbow's message, and all good things are possible. All is not selfishness, greed, and brutality the rainbow seems to plead. Behold the beauty in the sky, and lift up your heart as well as your eyes.
When people disappoint us, and the world seems unfeeling, then oftentimes it is our good fortune to catch sight of a rainbow which renews our hope. Rainbows are gifts that come just at the right time to save us from our despondency. They instill in us an awareness that God still cares for us, for He loves us enough to show us a rainbow.
For the blessed wildflwers that inhabit the lonely places I have much love. After walking beneath the sun and sky, and near the trees and grass with the birds singing about, and the wind in its eternal quest, then spying a flower, wild and free, a rare bit of beauty, truly this must be life's most lovely moment.
Tell me not of hatred and strife, for I have been where the wildflower grows as sweet as the morning air. It grows away far from the clamoring voices nestled in a verdant haven with none of its admirers rude nor rash, and none desposed to tear it from its stalk.
It, a silent gentle form, lovely in sight and contemplation, speaks of heaven in that modest setting, and of glories for which the wide world has no equal. Life, in winding to and fro, has forebodings of darkness on every hand, but the wildflower is bright as there is brilliance where it grows.
A gem, a precious jewel, is the wildflower, growing to cheer the thrush and quail, the oak and clinging vine, and as a blessing for the bee. At home there, away from mortal man, the wildflower graces the uninhabited countryside, and is content to reveal its beauty to simple, gentle things. To come upon a wildflower so peaceful and blessed in its natural state is to be removed from the tumultuous world of people both in mind and spirit.