Beauty has an extraordinary effect upon the mind and the senses. It seems to suggest perfection. It is not one thing, but many things coming together to form the beautiful in the mind's eye. The eye that can know beauty must be present, or the ear that can hear, and the mind and heart that can receive.
One is delighted by a beautiful woman, or a beautiful scene, but one must be receptive or there is nothing that appears beautiful. This awareness and appreciation of beauty is often lost to many as the wayward course of life goes through tunnels of darkness and despair.
But in all of us there awakes at times this immortal sense of beauty. One may not be able to put it into words, but it is there, this sense and feeling of the beautiful, and we are renewed and inspired by it.
In the supreme perfection of our sense of beauty, that which appeared unlovely becomes the lovely, and we notice beauty in the little unnoticed things of life, as we see beauty in its truest form, by the welding together of our heart and our thought with all of creation.
A thing may be beautiful of itself, but only when viewed or perceived in context and relationship with everything else is it's true beauty enhanced and immortalized. The fairest portion of creation is not fully appreciated and revered as beautiful unless there is a beholder or admirer, and that being is capacious and receptive. Just one to admire may make of a desert an oasis, of a dark planet a star, and of an ugly duckling a swan.
I feel that the birds I see flying and hear singing are my friends. Always a gentle mood comes upon me when I hear them singing. They seem to be a part of some heavenly picture in my mind.
There is in the mind of all of us a picture of paradise. It is our own special picture of what is perfect and fine, what is divine and heavenly, what is good and right, and what is pure and innocent. Each of us has our own unique picture of heaven. Those things in life we love are a part of that picture. Beautiful birds sweetly singing are in my picture of heaven.
Come singing round my heart,
In heavenly concord retort,
Fine feathered friends so free,
May you ever be friends to me.
Resound your merry singing,
From tree to tree ringing,
Across the strands of time,
May your sweetness ever chime.
Birds are angels in disquise,
Flying always in the skies,
What gentle beings they appear,
They love to please my ear.
With loving eyes they do dwell,
Upon a tree limb singing well,
As through the world I go along,
I love the the birds and their song.
The night is steeped in mystery. It is a shadowy realm. The night stirs the imagination. The night is the time for dreaming, for musing, and for escaping the sometimes harsh realities of the day.
I love the quiet of the night. The night is a tranquil time, and helps to compose the thoughts. It has not the glare of the day. The nighttime air is cooler and tends to soothe. Day demands recognition, night pleads for rest and forgetfulness.
Night wraps us up in a dark blanket, and repairs the wounds we suffered during the day, and prepares us for tomorrow. Day reveals, night obscures, day shouts, "arise, there is much to do", night whispers, "rest, all is done for now".
Who's To Say The World's Not Fair?
Look and listen to all,
Hear the meadowlark's plaintive call,
The grass is green on the hill,
The days are bright, the night's are still.
Busy, busy, the bumblebee,
Swaying in the breeze the lovely tree,
Morning and the sun shines in,
Greeting the world with a grin.
Evening and with eons of grace,
The bright sun withdraws it's face,
Who's to say the world's not fair?
Who's to live and not feel magic in the air?
Who's to look at a lovely flower,
And not feel better off than they are?
Who's to doubt the glory of life,
Despite the trouble and all the strife?
A Generous Heart
My mother was one of the most kind and generous persons I have ever known. I remember whenever someone stopped by our farm when I was a boy growing up, she always insisted they stay for a meal or a cup of coffee or a little bite to eat, even if they were strangers, and she always wanted to give them some kind of gifts when they went to leave, maybe just a few eggs or vegetables from our garden, but noone ever left without some kind of little gift.
What a wonderful world it would be if we all could be more generous. Generosity can take many forms, and it need not always be in the form of gifts or things of material value, but in the form of generosity of a more spiritual kind, such as praying for others, and being more kind and courteous to others. It can also be expressed in the giving of our time to help others, of taking the time to call or visit a friend or relative, or remembering someone who is ill or alone and elderly with a cheerful greeting or small gift.
There is so much more we could all do to promote the spirit of generosity in our world, in our homes, jobs, schools, cities, and businesses. Just a smile, a thank you, or a friendly greeting can contribute greatly to making the world a more pleasant place. Having a generous heart is the best way I know to make the world a better place to live in.
The Setting Sun Is Not Forever Gone
The setting sun is not forever gone,
Be not sad and forlorn,
For though the night may be long,
The sun will shine again in the morn.
Thus with us who have suffered loss,
Of our loved ones who passed away,
The long night of our grief,
Will end with the dawn someday.
This interval of time on earth,
Is but a prelude to eternity,
When we shall be reunited once again,
And with our loved ones forever be.