I Don't Know What To Do

Fish know to swim, worms know to crawl, and spiders know to weave webs, but I don't know what I am supposed to do. Rivers know to flow, and stars know to shine, and cats know to meow and chase mice, but I'm not sure which way to go.

Flowers know to bloom, and ducks know to quack and waddle, and geese know to honk and fly south in winter. Pigs know to squeal and grunt and wallow in the mud, and frogs know to jump and croak, donkeys know to hee-haw and kick, horses know to whinny, squirrels know to eat nuts and chatter, bees know to buzz and sting, and crickets know to rub their legs together to make noise, but what am I supposed to do?

Dogs know their part about barking and wagging their tails, and all about chasing rabbits or maybe cats, and birds know all about singing and flying, and rabbits are great at hopping and wiggling their nose, and fleas are experts at biting, chickens know to cackle and lay eggs, and roosters are wonderful crowers, so how come I don't know what I'm doing and don't have a clue about what to do?

Monster Of The Night

It was the middle of a dark night and I had not been able to sleep all night because of this monster and fiend of the night. In the stillness of the night the terrible sound he made was deafening.

That horrible loud noise was not unlike the roaring of a tiger or the shrieking of a demon. Freight trains, diesel trucks climbing hills, jet planes taking off could have sounded no louder than this montrous evil creature.

So near he would come, overhead, all about, buzzing in my ear, a lone mosquito tearing up the night. So much noise coming from such a tiny insect. As I covered my ears with my pillow I wondered if I would have to put up with this noisy fellow all night.

The Grasshopper

One chilly autumn morning I beheld a grasshopper struggling in the early morning dew, his almost lifeless body shuddering feebly. The autumn night had been cold, and that wee creature was faced with soon and certain death from the elements.

He was soon to be victim of that over which he had no control, a change of seasons, a drop in the temperatures, the turning and tilting of the earth. And I thought was his fate so different from my own? Was I not also bound by laws of being as immutable as he? And someday like the grasshopper I will weakly struggle when destiny has had enough of me.

I Must Cease Someday

Rocks last and rivers last,
But I must cease someday.
The wind lasts, and the sea,
But I must go away.

The sky lasts, and the clouds,
But I must leave them all.
The sun lasts, and the stars,
But I must heed the call.

Evenings last, and mornings,
But I must pass from sight.
Mountains last, and valleys,
But must take my flight.

Beauty lasts, and wonder,
But I must from life go.
Fond hopes last, and joys,
But I must go I know.

True love lasts, and tears,
But I must go afar.
Ideals last, and beliefs,
But I must catch a star.

(Behold It's Spring Again)

Behold it's spring again,
And thebloom, leaf, and blade
Have consented to reveal their face.
Behold it's spring again,
And the grass in the glade
Has sprung up all over the place.

Behold it's spring again,
And the bird sings his song,
While the frog croaks in the night.
Behold it's spring again,
And there's nothing much wrong
A walk in the woods won't make right.

Angelic Eyes

She has the eyes of an angel. How pure and clear are her eyes, how happy and gentle, and how free of the uncertainty and confusion that so often fills mine. Sincerity is in her glance, and serenity leaps forth from her gaze.

That she is beautiful there is no doubt, but her beauty centers in those eyes. They are a world unto themselves. Something, some force or otherworldly spirit eternal, emits from her eyes and casts a spell on all around.

The joy that reigns in my heart when she looks atme is incomparable. Her eyes, how they thrill me, how they warm and fill me! Fond limpid pools! Magnificent crystalline orbs! I would give the world just to peer to my heart's content into your depths forever.

Random Thoughts

The emotions of a person must be controlled by a delicate mechanism, for the slightest imbalance causes them to go haywire.

It is our imperfections which draw us closer together.

The power of words is such that they sway minds by mere suggestion.

Our soul yearns for release from the prison of our fears and doubts.

The bane of faith is that trace of doubt.

In an instant we lose our self-confidence as our insides go queasy and our mind turns blank.

How difficult to think clearly and objectively when we are involved personally.

The habit of worrying is so implanted in our mind that we become suspicious and particularly apprehensive when there seems to be nothing to worry about.

When one big worry is resolved ten little worries rush in to take its place and make us more miserable than before.

There is a magic, a wondrous feeling which attends the dawn of each new day, and those first faint rays of the rising sun always seem to beam new anticipation and hope into our heart.

Too great a reliance on tomorrow may hinder us from doing what we should do, what we want to do, what we feel like doing today.

A productive individual is a happy individual.

The worst problems in life are those we make for ourselves.

Faultfinding has a way of backfiring.

Once spoken a word is forever irretrievable.

Quickly we pass from time to eternity.

How carelessly, blindly we use our time, and how pointlessly and unpurposely we live the few years of our life.

Evil itself is a disease.

We on this planet are approaching the ideal, but unfortunately we happen to be people.

It would not be amiss to say that man is the only creature who destroys with as much fervor as he creates.

The greater part of life's distresses stem from the fact that we take ourselves too seriously.

Sadly the adventure of life is misinterpreted by most of us.

Most of the fun in life dwells in anticipation.

The more difficult the task the greater the satisfaction when it is finished.

We fight too many shadows.

Happiness is success after many failures.

Beauty is more of a feeling than a sight.

We are at our best when we are natural.

The future is a reflection of the past.

Music elevates and renovates the thoughts.

Our civilization is based on mutual respect, and any mass deviation from this can only result in chaos and disaster.

We are involved in an impossible situation, life and death.

Emotions are among the worst and the most wonderful of things.

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And Were Life But A Day

And were life but a day
I would choose to live it 'neath some shady tree,
There in rapture to stay
Perusing a book of choice poetry
Amid all Nature's vast charms.
The sights, the sounds not far removed from these
Of natural awesome forms,
The hills, the clouds, the gently swaying trees.

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