Categories
Healing Life Spirituality

Whatever Happens?

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What is the meaning of our life

if we are but a mist that quickly goes away

like a rose that blooms but for a day

What does it matter then that we have

ever passed this way?

Whatever happens

to the smiles we have smiled

to the tears we have cried

Whatever happens

to dreams we dreamt and reached

to failures that turned out bitter-sweet

Whatever happens to raindrops that fell

if thou shall not rise again towards heaven

and be made purer than it has ever been

Whatever happens

O whatever happens

if thy fallen soul

shall not be redeemed

Yea by now I can only pray

I can only believe

that everything is not meaningless

that there is reserved a destiny

even for a withered flower

even for mist that quickly goes away

Categories
Healing Life Spirituality

I don’t know

At times the wisest of answers
lies in these simple words:
i do not know

I do not know what happens after death
of whether the soul remains awake
of whether soul and body awaits
to be awakened in the last day

I do not know what judgment looms before us
or what mercies await us in our Father’s
loving arms

I only believe in this –
that death can be likened unto sleep
and that it is in the nature
of life to go on

night may come
but day comes as well to awaken
winter may fall
yet spring comes again
whence flowers bloom into their full blossom

I only believe in this-
that perfect love casts away all fear
and therefore, there is no fear in love

Glady and peacefully then
can I sleep
Joyfully and sweetly then
can I wait for the morning
 

Categories
Life Spirituality

MOST TOUCHING POEM

most touching poemI would like to share with you the most touching poem I have ever received.  No, it did not come from my boyfriend.  And No, it was not even an original composition.  Yet the way it was able to come to me was no ordinary thing in my life, certainly nothing I’ve ever expected to give me such a joy.

I got in touch with Vicky in the internet, she became one of my on-line friends though she is only able to send me the same old phrases each time she wants to write me a letter.  She says:

 

Dear Joyce

How are you doing?

I am fine

Vicky

Your friend

If you are wondering why, it is because my friend has some physical limitations that limits her ability to express herself the way we do.  As you might have noted, she cannot write.  She is only able to write the above phrases from memory.  Obviously, she can’t read either.  But she enjoys it everytime somebody sends her mail.  She has friends that read to her the messages she receives.

One day I sent her a forwarded message, something I thought was cute that I felt I wanted to send her, which I did.

I never thought she’d take so much delight in that message!  Her friend who read it to her wrote to me how she LOVED the message I just sent to her.  She said that Vicky liked it so much that she went to the library and asked the librarian to help her pick a nice poem for me!

Her friend was amazed by that, that Vicky went out of her way to find me something, a written piece of a poem she cannot even read, to express her gratitude for a piece I never even exerted any effort in composing nor in researching and carefully picking out.  A few clicks of a button was all that it took for me to send her that piece.  But for me, she went out of her way to give of something out of her love.  I felt ashamed and undeserving of all that.  Yet I felt the sincerity of her gesture, and the wisdom that does not need the abilities we so often worship and give importance to.  It is in simple things like that that we feel the most touching memories we shall always recall.  It is in the most unexpected of people and events that we find appreciation, gratitude and love.

Following is the poem she was able to pick out for me, which I am going to quote in the exact words she wrote:

A STITCH OF BLUE

when there is rain, my neighbor comes
to while away the day
and as we chat and mend we find
skes are no longer gray

we share a cup of tea deside
an understanding fire
that knows to glow in emberred tones
or rcach its arms up higher

and when the rain stepped aside
our mending’s finished too
we’ve patched our lives together
a little stitch of blue

sometimes I wish that more of aside
were built of rainy days
so I could take the gray away
In little, friendly ways.

Are you having a grey day?  I hope you find some comfort in the most touching poem I have ever received.  Great day!  J  And thank you, my friend.

Categories
Life

Flying

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This is the secret of flying:

When there is tremendous pressure all about you that you can do nothing but to rise above it all less be crushed underneath!

Categories
Life

Scars

I hid my uniqueness when I hid my scars,
for the world only knew of smiles
that know no tears.