A Light exists in Spring Not present on the Year At any other period – When March is scarcely here A Color stands abroad On Solitary Fields That Science cannot overtake But Human Nature feels. It waits upon the Lawn, … Continue reading
“The Gift-Wrap & The Jewel” by Wanda B. Goines
I looked in the mirror and what did I see,
but a little old lady peering back at me
With bags and sags and wrinkles and wispy white hair,
and I asked my reflection,
How did you get there?”
You once were straight and vigorous and now you’re stooped and weak,
when I tried so hard to keep you from becoming an antique.
My reflection’s eyes twinkled as she solemnly replied,
you’re looking at the gift wrap and not the jewel inside
A living gem and precious, of unimagined worth
Unique and true, the real you, the only you on earth.
The years that spoil your gift-wrap with other things more cruel,
should purify and strengthen, and polish up that jewel.
So focus your attention on the inside, not the out
On being kinder, wiser, more content and more devout
Then, when your gift-wrap’s stripped away your jewel will be set free,
to radiate God’s glory throughout eternity.
Original news you may read here.
This is the bright home
in which I live,
this is where
this is where I want
to love all the things
it has taken me so long
to learn to love.
This is the temple
of my adult aloneness
and I belong
to that aloneness
as I belong to my life.
There is no house
like the house of belonging.
The House of Belonging- David Whyte ©1996
Too many needles spoil the cloth. Too many parrots spoil the talk. Too many chapped lips spoil the gloss. Too many teasel burs spoil the paw. Too many bubbles spoil the froth. Too many doorbells spoil the knock. Too many … Continue reading
The autumn leaves can dazzle us with their magnificent colors: deep red, purple, yellow, gold, bronze, in countless variations and combinations. Then, shortly after having shown their unspeakable beauty, they fall to the ground and die. The barren trees remind … Continue reading
I will praise my failures. I will praise What I have not accomplished and do not possess Because it has led to this moment At ten in the morning on a smoky October day, Sitting on the bedroom floor in my bathrobe, Treated to a rectangle … Continue reading
September 1, 1939 W. H. Auden, 1907 – 1973 I sit in one of the dives On Fifty-second Street Uncertain and afraid As the clever hopes expire Of a low dishonest decade: Waves of anger and fear Circulate over the … Continue reading