The World Doesn't Need Us
The world doesn't need us. It would go on turning without us. The seasons would keep on going around. The sky would still be blue and the clouds would still drift on by.
Without us it would still all go on, the lakes sparkling in the sun, leaves floating from the trees, birds flying on some distant horizon, summer days lazy and still, and nights all ablaze with the stars. The flowers would still bloom if we were not here, and the wind would still rustle the leaves on the trees, the storms would still form and the lightning still flash and the thunder still rumble.
The sun would still rise even if we were not around to see it, and the moon would come up at night. The world does not depend on our existence, the waves of the sea would still rise and fall, the rivers still run, and the snow capped mountains still stand.
No, we are not necessary. God has blessed us with the gift of life for a brief season here on earth. Let us enjoy what time we have.
The Seared Soul
He looked as you or I,
He could act quite as well,
But there was beyond the eye,
What his features would not tell,
A man stricken within,
With no feeling again.
What branding iron did burn,
To sear his soul so bad?
What burning did his mind turn,
For once feeling he had?
But it is all gone now,
What love God did endow.
Indeed he seems wholly free,
Of sentiment at all,
Without compassion is he,
A man who has met his fall,
Without care for anyone,
Having a love for none.
What a wretched creature,
Conscience quite lacking,
Let this man be your teacher,
Watch closely his tracking,
For his way leads to despair,
A man who cannot care.
The Gift of Love
There is much we do not understand about the world and life, and even about ourselves, but love seems to be universal and the one constant that keeps people and society from unraveling and becoming inhumane and plunging into chaos. As long as we care about one another, and have compassion for others regardless of race, creed, or whatever differences there may be, then we can sustain a world in which love and caring overcome hate and uncaring.
I believe that God has given us this gift of love, and that love is the bond which holds us and our world together. Love is the bond that holds families and friends together, and also the nations and peoples of the world in some kind of accord, for if it were not so, and there were no love in the world, we would have long ago annihilated ourselves.
What Goes Around, Comes Around
I want to like myself,
I could not mistreat others,
And truly like myself,
I am only happy with myself,
When I make others happy.
I find that happiness lies,
Not in my selfish ends,
But more in helping others,
For this is the key unto peace,
The key unto heaven.
I cannot curse others,
Without being myself cursed,
Or do evil unto others,
Without evil being done unto me,
For that which we do comes back to us.
We are either rewarded,
Or we suffer I find,
For everything that we do,
For everything in life is a circle,
And what goes around, comes around.
One morning as a small boy in my upstairs bedroom in our farmhouse, I awoke to a bat flying over my bed. He evidently came into my bedroom by way of a small hole in the screen of the bedroom window. Back and forth he flew swooping over my bed. Each time he seemed to dip toward my head, and I in a most comical manner, I suppose, would duck my head under the covers.
Summoning my courage, I reached for a book, and began batting at the little critter. He, with his built-in radar, avoided my flailing with uncanny ability it seemed to me. Finally, either tiring of the foolish game, or out of pity for me, he alighted on the wall.
There on the wall he clung, and proceeded to scratch one of his ears. He didn't appear the least menacing there on the wall, but I still had fears of him biting me and possibly contracting rabies or something.
So, feeling more and more like a villian, I stole toward the wall, book in hand, to squash him. I raised the book, and struck at him on the wall. Heaven prevailed, I missed, and he escaped out the window.
I remember when I was a little boy on the farm waking up to the smell of my mom's pancakes in the morning, and of how good the blackberry pies my mom used to make tasted. When my mom baked pies she always used to bake an extra little pie for me in a little piepan which I could eat right away soon after the pies were hot from the oven.
I remember watching my dad roll his old homemade cigarettes, and listening to him tell stories of his youth of breaking wild horses and sawing wood with an old crosscut saw. I remember watching his eyes light up when he recalled days gone by of shocking corn, going hunting and fishing, and of drinking and getting into fights at platform dances as a young man.
I remember listening to my mom sing church songs of an evening, and watching her braid her long blonde hair, and seeing her happiness when a bunch of little chickens hatched.
I remember going out of a morning to do my chores and have my little dog bound up to meet me. I remember taking a walk up the hill above our house into the pasture and looking down at the house where I was I was born. I remember the sky was so blue it almost took my breath away and I seemed so happy.