Painting by Mary Jane Ansell
The plane takes off, she
Flies to the western garden.
Some tears in my eye.
Daily Archives: March 25, 2014
Gandul zilei – 25 martie 2014
Gândul zilei
Marţi 25 Martie 2014
Cea mai înaltă onoare pe care o putem oferi Sinelui nostru
este aceea de a ne abandona complet egoul,
astfel divinitatea noastră
va straluci în şi prin noi.
Sri Vasudeva
Thought for Today
Tuesday March 25, 2014
The highest honour we can give to our Self
is to surrender our ego completely
so that our divinity will
shine in and through us.
Sri Vasudeva
Words of Music
Speak to my Heart,
In Shades of Love,
In Tones of Desire,
In Colours of Passion;
Sing to my Spirit
With Harmonies of Joy,
With Melodies of Enchantment,
With Rhythms of Guile,
And I shall Listen
Spellbound and Enthralled
Through All Eternity.
~Morgan~
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.
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Beautiful Original Artwork by Cindy Grundsten
Bitterness
Painting by Xie Chu Yu
Selfishness is the
Road to dissatisfaction,
The road of darkness.
You leave the great flood, you beach
On the shores of bitterness.
Last summer
Flower
This is a flower from last summer. I can hardly wait for them to see them again. It snowed last night. The sun will burn it off but the high today is going to be in the 20s and we are all sick of the cold weather. This flower gives me hope.
Wisdom Quotes #16……and Kabir spoke
Photo credit: http://en.wikipedia.org
(1) “I laugh when I hear that the fish in the water is thirsty.
You don’t grasp the fact that what is most alive of all is inside your own house;
and you walk from one holy city to the next with a confused look!
Kabir will tell you the truth: go wherever you like, to Calcutta or Tibet;
if you can’t find where your soul is hidden,
for you the world will never be real!”
(2) “The Lord is in me, the Lord is in you, as life is in every seed, put false pride away and seek the Lord within..”
(3) “The Kazi is searching the words of the Koran, and instructing others:
but if his heart be not steeped in that love, what does it avail, though he be a teacher of men?”
Kabir Das (1440–1518) an Indian mystic, philosopher and poet…
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Innocence Of A Child’s Prayer
Innocence of a Child’s Prayer
There is a small boy
Who knelt down by his bed to pray one night.
This is what he said:
Dear Jesus,
I know you are used to hearing grownup’s prayers.
I am little, but could you, maybe, hear my prayers tonight?
My grandpa is sick and has something I can’t say,
And he doesn’t feel like playing with me anymore.
I never had a daddy,
And Mama said he did not want me.
Jesus, why would he not want me?
I don’t think I did anything wrong.
My mama works at night at the diner
While I stay home by myself.
I am scared, so I make a tent in my room to hide.
I have a flashlight, too.
I wonder why other kids in school make fun of me.
Billy said I was a welfare kid.
I sure don’t wanna catch nothing to…
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The “Only Love of my Life”
The Love Of My Life
When times are hard, he greets it with hope. When I am frightened, he’s my guardian. When I am uncertain, he reassures. Sometimes we don’t find that one person in the world who was meant just for us. in our early years. We are in a hurry or afraid to be alone, or it could be, that right person is not ready to come into our life, yet. One thing I do know is that God knows Who and When, if only we let him do the choosing.
About “Fallen Angel”: To Remember
I posted this poem about “Fallen Angel”, because it was written for a grieving Mother who had recently lost her year old son. He was on a two lane road at night, not doing anything wrong, and another car was in his lane, causing a head on collision. I didn’t know the woman well, but knew the Sister. What words can you say to comfort at a time such as this? I wrote what I could not say. They buried him and as this very large family stood over the grave, this poem I wrote was read. I did not expect what I had to say to have such an impact, but it did.
We as parents, Brothers and Sisters and all family, don’t realize allot of time how precious each day is. Things unsaid, wounds not healed. Now we have our Sons and Daughters, Husbands and Wives, fighting for…
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Barbara C Rowe Author 