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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. <
p>
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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