Of Public Places and Spaces

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Public arts abound on alleyways and bus boards in Vancouver.  Local painters and writers creative works are shared for the public to enjoy. It astounds me how much imagination a person has from painting to writing. Putting them together create … Continue reading

Roses are red … So are you?

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A singular rose caught my attention amongst other plant growing on a dry garden bed. With its red flower and sweet fragrance, it stood so proudly by itself while other plants are withering from the summer heat. Then it reminded … Continue reading

Out of Solitude

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As she looked at her own face in the mirror, she suddenly recalled the sorrowful widow. It was at that moment that she wrote the opening lines of “Solitude“.
solitude-cuba-3

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own. ~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox

solitude-cuba-4

In giving shape my view of the world having a solitary person in the foreground suggests that it is okay to be alone but not lonely.

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All work and no rest makes a man boring. Rest he did in his three-wheeler taxi cab. Who needs money when one is too tired to enjoy life. When he wakes up from his solitude, life becomes bearable again.

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And what on earth is he doing down there alone? Fishing! Men prefer to reel a fish similar to playing golf, alone. So why do men enjoy fishing alone?  Because the fish are bigger and the stories are better with no witnesses!

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In a crowd of a million tourist, he just have to sit down with a non-verbal companion. Maybe he had enough listening, blah-blah-blah. Or maybe he is just like me observing how silly tourist really are. Or maybe he left his wife in a store shopping. Or maybe…

Ah, solitude, such sweet surrender.

Rest

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“Rest here, quiet your mind and tune your heart, for I have much to tell you.”

sunrise-at-mt-beatitude

Sunrise at Mt. Beatitudes

“Blessed are the serene in spirit.
“Blessed are they who are not held by possessions, for they shall be free.
“Blessed are they who remember their pain, and in their pain await their joy.
“Blessed are they who hunger after truth and beauty, for their hunger shall bring bread, and their thirst cool water.
“Blessed are the kindly, for they shall be consoled by their own kindliness.
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall be one with God.
“Blessed are the merciful, for mercy shall be in their portion.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for their spirit shall dwell above the battle, and they shall turn the potter’s field into a garden.
“Blessed are they who are hunted, for they shall be swift of foot and they shall be winged.

“Rejoice and be joyful, for you have found the kingdom of Heaven within you. The singers of old were persecuted when they sang of that kingdom. You too shall be persecuted, and therein lies your honor, therein your reward.

Kahlil Gibran on Matthew "The Sermon on the Mount"

Words

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church-in-cuba

What is prayer?

You take words,
everyday words,
and all of a sudden they become holy.

Why?

Because there is something
that separates one word from
another and then you try to fill
the vacuum.

With what?
With whom?
With what memory?
With what aspiration?

So when words bring you closer
to the prisoner in his cell,
to the patient who is dying on his bed alone,
to the starving child,

then it’s a prayer.

words by Elie Wiesel

At the end of the day, I just want to be a cat

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Oh, there were resolutions to keep a low profile to pace myself to take it easy, because nothing is so important anyway but yesterday there was an inertia that got out of hand like a rolling thunder and good people … Continue reading

What lies ahead without Fidel

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The earth expanding right hand and left hand, The picture alive, every part in its best light, The music falling in where it is wanted, and stopping where it is not wanted, The cheerful voice of the public road, the … Continue reading

Yes, Jake, memories of you do last even if you are a cat

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To lose a pet always comes with anguish. You wake up everyday and there they are. It becomes so much like breathing you can’t imagine them not ever being there. They ask so little of us food, water, love and … Continue reading

Growing babies.

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I’ve heard it said that while an American child will ask, “How are babies made?,” a Chinese child will ask, “How do babies grow?” So, “How does your garden grow?” is not just a line from a nursery rhyme! It’s … Continue reading

Letter to Premier of BC and Ministry of Education

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Today, I e-mailed the Premier of BC, Christy Clark, and Ministry of Education, Mike Bernier reminding them their responsibility as elected officials. As much as I want to remain quiet about what is happening in Vancouver public system, I am … Continue reading

When leaving becomes arriving

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THE JOURNEY Above the mountains the geese turn into the light again Painting their black silhouettes on an open sky. Sometimes everything has to be inscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. … Continue reading

Seasons in the sun

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I love the sun. I want to catch it, if I could, keep it for myself. As I was about to reach out for it, a boy races towards the sun, beckoning to come along to play with him. Soon … Continue reading

Way of Praying

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Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore unsuitable. I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds or hugging the old black oak tree. I have … Continue reading

Until far off the bells

The Fawn  by Mary Oliver

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Sunday morning and mellow as precious metal
The church bells rang, but I went
To the woods instead.

A fawn, too new
For fear, rose from the grass
And stood with its spots blazing,
And knowing no way but words,
No trick but music,
I sang to him.

He listened.
His small hooves struck the grass.
Oh what is holiness?

The fawn came closer,
Walked to my hands, to my knees.

I did not touch him.
I only sang, and when the doe came back
Calling out to him dolefully
And he turned and followed her into the trees,
Still I sang,
Not knowing how to end such a joyful text,

Until far off the bells once more tipped and tumbled
And rang through the morning, announcing
The going forth of the blessed.

The Call of the Wild

Gorgeous, tender, & true,
for even as the wild pack
of poet dogs that we are,
running reindeer & bigots
& politicians into a frenzy,
thanks for reminding us
that we are peregrine,
lone eagles, red-tailed hawks
as well & now I understand
why after a spirited
bout of writing,
I feel light-headed,
sometimes
getting nose bleeds
& wind burns.

Glenn Buttkus 

 

Comment via The Call: Blue Skies.
Pack of dogs via Thank you for saving our lives

 

I could hear the grass laugh.

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When the sky closes up, it stops raining. Grass grows where it’s planted and dies silently with hardly any rain for the past three months. The care given to this grass is better than a Persian carpet. Who needs a carpet when I … Continue reading

Love is a complicated matter

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Recently I saw a photo that made me recall bits and pieces of my childhood years. From this memory, I remember a poem I kept about love that a child does not understand. The Memory: I couldn’t help it but … Continue reading

Who has seen the Wind?

Earth, Wind, Fire and Water are the quintessential natural forces of nature.
We can see the earth, fire and water but not the Wind.

Who has seen the wind, neither your nor I

Who has seen the wind, neither your nor I

Do we have to see it to believe it?

Who Has Seen the Wind?
BY CHRISTINA ROSSETTI

Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you:
But when the leaves hang trembling,
The wind is passing through.

Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I:
But when the trees bow down their heads,
The wind is passing by.

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Forces of Nature.”

 

Be Careful

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As we enter the Holy Sepulcher, there lies a slab of stone where Jesus’ dead body was laid. The Orthodox priests anoint the stone with rose scented oil, walking around it as they say their prayers and holding an incense … Continue reading

Teach Us To Sit Still.

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Today is Ash Wednesday and nothing is more fitting than to share with you the poem of T.S. Eliot’s long poem “Ash Wednesday” written in 1927. The last three lines of this stanza struck me personally. Ash Wednesday by T. … Continue reading

And finally, because we ask this in every interview: why write? 

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  Write because you want to communicate with yourself. Write because you want to communicate with someone else. Write because life is weird and tragic and amazing. Write because talking is difficult. Write because it polishes the heart. Write because … Continue reading

Blessed be the Winter

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It’s winter. I used to dread this season of long days of darkness. Very little light affects my health and mental well-being. I never had this problem when I lived in the tropics where the sun shines. Learning to come … Continue reading

Autumn of Life

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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

Dreaming my Dreams

I am a dreamer of dreams
Wandering around from the periphery
Quiet to remain unnoticed.

Dream Trout lake

Here I feel safe
Safe in the hands of a lifeguard
Guarding  precious lives.
Dream Lifeguard

Along the winding path
Willows weep as I pass by
Or maybe bowing to pay respect.
Dream Weeping Willow

The boardwalk will take me away
Into secluded area where tall grasses grow
Fairies and dragonflies will stop out of curiosity.
Dream Dragonfly

A bench is waiting at the end
As I can see it’s already taken
By someone dreaming my dreams.
Dream Dog

Globally speaking

VSB Student Artwork

VSB Student Artwork

I am

I’m but a human,
a leaf, a bee, a fish,
a ripple in the surface of still waters,
I’m mainly water,
crushed by risk acceptance,
new science of fakes,
deciding that life’s unique beings,
are just percentiles…
the political – scientist can do without,
leaves, bees, fish,
Me and You alike,
Globally speaking!

Poetic thought by George-B

And I would like to add that deep inside of us, we have a heart and the colour of our blood is the same.

I stumbled on this poem due to a slip of a finger using iPad at Sound Cloud by George-B.  George has a wide selections of classical music that I go to his site to listen while I do housekeeping or while I write. Thank you George for allowing me to share your poetic thought.

The Peace Of Wild Things

Wood Drake

The Peace of Wild Things

BY WENDELL BERRY

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
via: Poetry Foundation

 

 

The Things Said

96yr old

 

“In five days, I’ll be 96 years old.

I never smoked.
I never had any stress.
I was dumb
I worked low-level jobs with no responsibility.

I worked until I was 84, with two jobs.
I worked at an office until five o’clock,
and then I went to work as a waitress
— it was a happy job, feeding people.

Then you take your uniform off,
and your job is done.
But somebody has to do
the stressful jobs, too.”

“Do you have any regrets?”

“Oh, I’ve made lots of mistakes.”

“With education and jobs?”

“No, no. With people.
And that hurts the most
— the things you’ve said to people.”

Ten Thousands Buttercups

Photo: Buttercup by Alex J. White

Photo: Buttercup by Alex J. White

Through Darkness, Into the Light BY PARKER J. PALMER 

I recently talked with a friend who’s spent time in the same deep darkness that I’ve known from time to time. In the course of our conversation, she shared a beautiful poem with me — a poem she wrote about an experience that helped her come through that darkness back into the light.

As the poem itself says, this may not be for you. But I wanted to share it here, with her permission, knowing that if the poem brings light to only one other person, I’ll be glad I passed it along. I know it brought light to me.

Untitled
by Willow Harth

This poem is not meant for you
unless you too have been underground
choking on your life’s debris, and
playing peek-a-boo with death seriously

then the surprise of ten thousand buttercups
out of nowhere on every side where they’d
never been before on my daily walk
might have had the effect on you it did on me

because suddenly

I wanted to understand how these particular
flowers came to be—the whole evolutionary
history of mosses, ferns and angiosperms,
the miracle of photosynthesis and DNA, not

to mention the longings of the Milky Way
to reflect itself in the form called flowers and
in these buttercups, which seemed like a
visitation from the sun, urging me to tell you, in
case like me you had forgotten

we are the universe’s latest way of blooming.

 

Beauty in Nature

 Enjoy the sensory beauty of the world we live in as Helen Keller did.

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Helen Keller had an acute sense of smell. She loved being in nature and the fragrance of flowers. One scent she was particularly fond of was the fresh scent of eucalyptus leaves

I who am blind can give one
hint to those who see
one admonition to those who
would make full use of the gift of sight.

Use your eyes as if tomorrow
you would be stricken blind
and the same method can
be applied to the other senses.

Hear the music of voices
the song of a bird
the mighty strains of an orchestra
as if you would be stricken deaf tomorrow.

Touch each object you want to touch
as if tomorrow your tactile sense would fail.

Smell the perfume of flowers
taste with relish each morsel
as if tomorrow you could
never smell and taste again.

Make the most of every sense
glory in all the facets of pleasure and beauty
which the world reveals to you through
the several means of contact which Nature provides.

 

Note: This is an entry from The Open Door – Helen Keller  and not a poem.
Source: AFB: American Foundation for the Blind

 

 

There is no straight path

zig zag

Mount Sinai

There is no straight path.

You Zig your way
You Zag the other way
Zigzagging as you go along in life
Avoiding the pitfalls and perils.

The big rocks
The pebbles
The sandy wind
The blinding sun.

 You stumble along the way.

Pick up yourself
Shake the dust off your body
Wipe the blood of your hands and knees.

You cry some
You laugh some
You ignore some
You wonder what am I doing?

Even the camels
Even the mountain goats
They are smart enough to
Walk, jump, crisscross in the
Treacherous rocky mountain.

Don’t be fooled
For there is no short cuts
In the mountain of life.

No short cut.

There are tremendous reasons
To place the blame. Be it people,
Situations, yourself, or anything
Or anyone.  These are obstacles in life.

Unless you have a God

For your God
can make a straight path
For you.

Focus.

We have time

octavian_paler

I learned by Octavian Paler
08 May 2006

We have time …
We have time for everything
To sleep, or to be all over the place,
To regret mistakes and do them again,
To judge others and find excuses for ourselves,

We have time to read and write,
To correct our writings, and regret what we wrote,
We have time to make plans and never complete them,
We have time to fantasize about impossible things
and later on to look into the ashes of them.

We have time for ambitions and diseases,
To blame fate and the details,
We have time to watch the clouds, TV commercials and shocking news,
We have time to not answer questions,
To postpone the answers,
We have time to kill a dream and recreate it later
We have time to make friends, and lose them
We have time to get lessons and forget them later on,
We have time to get gifts and not understand them.
We have time for everything.

But we don’t have time for a little kindness.
When one does they are dying.

I learned some important things in my life and I would like to share them with you.
I learned that you can not make somebody love you. All you can do is to be a lovely person, the rest … depends on others.
I learned that it does not matter how much I care, others don’t.
I learned that it takes years to win somebody’s trust and it takes just a few seconds to lose it.
I learned that doesn’t matter what you HAVE in life, all that matters is with WHOM you have it.
I learned that in the first 15 min you can impress somebody by using your charm after that you have to come up with something smart.
I learned that you don’t have to compare yourself with what other people are best at you have to find out what is your best.
I learned that it does not matter what happens to people, what matters is what I can do to help.

I learned that each episode has two faces.

I learned you should part lovingly from those you love, It may be the last time you have the opportunity to see that person.
I learned that you can run a long time after you said that you are exhausted.
I learned that heroes are people who do the right thing when it is needed not caring about the consequences.

I learned that there are people that love you but they do not know how to show it.
I learned that when I am upset I have the right to be upset but I do not have the right to be mean.

I learned that you can have long distance friendships, the same applies to love.
I learned that if somebody does not love you like you wish, It does not mean he or she does not love you from the bottom of their heart.
He or she will occasionally hurt you and you will forgive it.

I learned that it is not enough to forgive others sometimes you have to forgive yourself.
I learned that regardless how much you are suffering the world will not stop.
I learned that your past can have an impact on your personality but you are responsible for what you are going to become.
I learned that, if two people get into a fight it does not mean they do not love each other. And the fact that they do not fight does not mean they love each other.
I learned that sometimes you have to put the person first and not their actions.
I learned that two people can see different sides of the same incident.
I learned that indifferent of the consequences those who are honest with themselves are the winners in life.
I learned that your life can be changed by strangers in a few hours.
I learned that when you think you have nothing to give your friend can call for help, and you will find the strength to help him.

I learned that talking and writing can help to heal your pain.
I learned that you spend too little time with people you love the most…

I learned that is very hard to know when to be nice so you do not hurt people but you still sustain your opinions.

I learned to love so I can be loved in return.

Octavian Paler (July 2, 1926 – May 7, 2007) was a Romanian writer, politician, journalist and civil society activist.

Source: My Comenius

 

Pay Attention

grass

It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.”

~ Praying by Mary Oliver (Thirst)

Body and Soul

The Veiled Lady in the Wind

The Veiled Lady in the Wind

I know how to let my soul out of the business it’s tied up in. I hear my blood singing and boiling, I’m light-headed. And this matter which is my own somewhere on the border of slow disturbance recombines in a chain of primary links.

There in the unbiased ether our essences balance against star weights hurled at the now just trembling scales. The ecstasy of life
lives at this edge – the body’s memory of its immutable homeland.

– Osip Mandelstam translated by Barbara Einzig from “Collected Works” by Osip Mandelstam ed. Struve and Filipoff (Washington D.C.: Interlanguage Associates, 1967) via Parabola

 

Photo Credit:  Stephane Couture ~ Published at National Geographic Daily Dozen on December 19, 2013
“I love to see people standing on the side of the ocean at sunset witnessing this unique moment. We don’t really know if they are day dreaming or just simply enjoying the mesmerizing colors. I was one of them when this veiled lady passed in front of my lens dancing to the sound of the waves with her veil moving to the tempo of the wind. I feel very fortunate to have captured this moment when everything falls into place at the perfect time.”

A Toast To Canada

Blue Jays Baseball Game on Canada Day, July 1, 2014

Blue Jays Baseball Game on Canada Day, July 1, 2014 courtesy photo by my sister

O Canada, I have not forgotten you,
and as I kneel in my canoe, beholding this vision   
of a bookcase, I pray that I remain in your vast,
polar, North American memory.
You are the paddle, the snowshoe, the cabin in the pines.   
You are Jean de Brébeuf with his martyr’s necklace of hatchet heads.
You are the moose in the clearing and the moosehead on the wall.
You are the rapids, the propeller, the kerosene lamp.   
You are the dust that coats the roadside berries.   
But not only that.
You are the two boys with pails walking along that road,   
and one of them, the taller one minus the straw hat, is me.
Billy Collins, “Canada” from The Art of Drowning. Copyright © 1995 by Billy Collins. All rights are controlled by the University of Pittsburgh Press. Reprinted with the permission of the University of Pittsburgh Press, www.pitt.edu/~press/ (Source: The Art of Drowning (1995) via Poetry Foundation)

H A P P Y   C A N A D A   D A Y

Promise Yourself

Promise yourself (2)

“Promise Yourself”

To be so strong that nothing
can disturb your peace of mind.
To talk health, happiness, and prosperity
to every person you meet.

To make all your friends feel
that there is something in them
To look at the sunny side of everything
and make your optimism come true.

To think only the best, to work only for the best,
and to expect only the best.
To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others
as you are about your own.

To forget the mistakes of the past
and press on to the greater achievements of the future.
To wear a cheerful countenance at all times
and give every living creature you meet a smile.

To give so much time to the improvement of yourself
that you have no time to criticize others.
To be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear,
and too happy to permit the presence of trouble.

To think well of yourself and to proclaim this fact to the world,
not in loud words but great deeds.
To live in faith that the whole world is on your side
so long as you are true to the best that is in you.

― Christian D. Larson

A Summer Day

The Summer Day by Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Finding Meaning In Between Times

Sakura at Burrard Station
Find meaning.
Distinguish melancholy from sadness.
Go out for a walk.

It doesn’t have to be a romantic walk in the park,
spring at its most spectacular moment,
flowers and smells and outstanding poetical imagery
smoothly transferring you into another world.

It doesn’t have to be a walk during which you’ll have
multiple life epiphanies and discover meanings
no other brain ever managed to encounter.

Do not be afraid of spending quality time by yourself.

Find meaning or don’t find meaning
but steal some time and give it freely
and exclusively to your own self.

Opt for privacy and solitude.

That doesn’t make you antisocial or cause
you to reject the rest of the world.

But you need to breathe.
And you need to be.”

― Albert Camus

A cat must have three different names

Video

THE NAMING OF CATS ~ T.S. Eliot

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn’t just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there’s the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey –
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter –
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that’s particular,
A name that’s peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum-
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there’s still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover –
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.

via: Brain Pickings by 

Rest

Open Sea Victoria, BC Canada

Read these words aloud as a prayer for this stage of your life—the fullness and generativity of your being.

Rest: A Poem

I believe in all that has never yet been spoken.
I want to free what waits within me
so that what no one has dared to wish for
may for once spring clear
without my contriving.

If this is arrogant, God, forgive me,
but this is what I need to say.
May what I do flow from me like a river,
no forcing and no holding back,
the way it is with children.

Then in these swelling and ebbing currents,
these deepening tides moving out, returning,
I will sing you as no one ever has,
streaming through widening channels
into the open sea.

— Rainer Maria Rilke, Rilke’s Book of Hours: Love Poems to God
(Translated by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy)

via Richard Rohr

I rise, I rise, I rise

maya

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Maya Angelou
In Memory.  Via Parabola

Sakura for Jae

Here’s something to look forward to when you visit Canada in spring.  I kid you not, Sakura is all over the place in Canada.

This is just one tree.  Imagine walking underneath the boulevard all lined up with Sakura, it’s snowing pink petals.
sakura jae

“What a strange thing!
to be alive
beneath cherry blossoms.” 
― Kobayashi IssaPoems

This is nothing in comparison to my fascination with this yellow flower when I first arrived here in Canada. I just love these Lions of the Spring. One cannot appreciate the beauty of Cherry blossoms without having to fall for these beast.
Lions of the Spring

 

Weekly Photo Challenge: Spring.

The Saga of Eggs

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall;
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again.
humpy dumpy

This is a continuing saga of eggs posted here, here and here.

“Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,” BY MOTHER GOOSE
Source: The Dorling Kindersley Book of Nursery Rhymes (2000) via Poetry Foundation
Image: The New Yorker

We may be hard headed but we are fragile as eggs

Boiled eggs harden
Hard they may, they still crack
We painted some, we played more
We insisted that we do it our way
If not take the highway
Highway is not really high
It is the low road of life
For we are fragile as eggs
We can’t stand on our own feet
Since we do not have any feet nor limbs
Otherwise we rolled around
With no direction
So I say to you
There is nothing wrong with…
With a little help from anyone
For no man is an island
We are here for one another
Good Eggs

Thank you for being there for the past 40 days. Silence is now broken.

 

Thinking Thresholds

 

threshold door

To find a light streaming through a hole on a door
in a dark room made my outlook brighter.

In the threshold of my thoughts that gives me a
glimpse of hope that life will be bearable
in between these spaces lie a threshold
a passage that will open a door of transformation.

The awareness of the light,
I am grateful for the threshold
for without it, there is no possibility to know
that there is a brighter life behind this door.

 

This is love and nothing else.

spring flowersA Prayer in Spring

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers today;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.

Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.

And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.

For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfill.

 

Robert Frost, from Robert Frost: Collected Poems, Prose, and Plays (Library of America).

Thank you David Lose for sharing another inspired poem.
Photo Credit: Karma Tube

Educating the heart

Video

educating-the-mind-aristotle

Listening educates my mind and heart.

I must have listened to this video a hundred times.  Watching the video distracts me from listening so I converted it to voice only.  When I listen, I also like to jot down the words and I ended up transcribing the spoken words.  The key words compassion, acceptance and tolerance are words that I will keep in my heart and put into practice.

Listen and prepare ourselves in educating our mind and hearts.

(click to listen)

When a child is born,
we do everything we can
to protect them, nurture them, love them.

A child’s heart and mind are fragile.
As they grow, we want to teach them everything we know.

We send them to school
to fill their minds with wonderful knowledge
to give them the tools they need for life.

At school they get a taste what things are like in a world outside.
There’s friendship, romance, disappointment,
embarrassment, discrimination and bullying.

They are the tools we give them enough to prepare them for this world.

We have an enormous responsible and an amazing opportunity.
If we truly want to prepare them for the world outside,
we must also educate the heart.

Because to navigate the world outside
with compassion, acceptance and tolerance
we need to teach them
compassion, acceptance and tolerance.

This can begin in our schools and it can start today.

It can happen at hockey practice, dance class
and day camps and music lessons
and it’s already happening around the world
with astonishing results.

If we want our children to grow
into socially and emotionally capable young people,
we must ask for a balanced education
and put importance on educating both the mind and the heart.

Prepare them for this world.
Educating the Heart
The Dalai Lama Center for Peace and Education
Voice over by: Poet and author Shane Koyczan

You can view the video here.

 

It Couldn’t Be Done – Poetry in Voice

Street art work in Victoria, BC  Canada

Street art work in Victoria, BC Canada

It Couldn’t Be Done
by Edgar Albert Guest
(click to listen)

Somebody said that it couldn’t be done,
But he with a chuckle replied
That “maybe it couldn’t,” but he would be one
Who wouldn’t say so till he’d tried.
So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
On his face. If he worried he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done, and he did it.

Somebody scoffed: “Oh, you’ll never do that;
At least no one ever has done it”;
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat,
And the first thing we knew he’d begun it.
With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,
Without any doubting or quiddit,
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done, and he did it.

There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
There are thousands to prophesy failure;
There are thousands to point out to you one by one,
The dangers that wait to assail you.
But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,
Just take off your coat and go to it;
Just start to sing as you tackle the thing
That “cannot be done,” and you’ll do it.

Recited by:  Suzanna Alsayed

Yes, it can be done!  VSB schools who will be participating in the Poetry in Voice competition are David Thompson, Magee, Churchill, Templeton and Killarney.

I can show you God

Thank you, John, for sharing your words of wisdom.

“The places of peace

Ancient places and secrets hidden.
We allowed ghostly views of life and death.
I search for beauty hidden from the normal eyes.
Rare places to find peace.
I find cliffs to sit with Eagles.
I talk with the Gods of the wind and water.
I touch the soil and feel the energy and life.

The ancient Gods are fair.
They do not disturb or change our journey.
They just whisper. Life is fair.
Take what you need. Don’t abuse the land.
Love and respect your neighbors.

read more…

johncoyote

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ps_2010_12_08___12_14_15.jpg

I can show you God

A Poem by Coyote Poetry

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Just thoughts and things to ponder on

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                                  I can show you GodThe great search for God is fruitless for some.
I knew a woman from  Santa Cruz.  We sat together often drinking hot and tasty
coffee on the Santa Cruz boardwalk. Her heart was cold and dead.

She  told me God is dead and forgotten.
We are just people struggling with no place to go or reasons to be alive.

I smiled and pointed to the sea.
I told her God is alive.
Look at the dancing sea.
The sun above us. Gifts for us from God.

God isn’t our master or guide.
Life is for us to decide.
She looked frustrated and asked.
Don’t God support to protect and save us?
Look at this world. War, murder, violence and dead-ends.”

I requested her to travel with me.
I…

View original post 678 more words

How kind time is.

thomas merton
At Thomas Merton’s Grave

BY SPENCER REECE

We can never be with loss too long.
Behind the warped door that sticks,
the wood thrush calls to the monks,
pausing upon the stone crucifix,
singing: “I am marvelous alone!”
Thrash, thrash goes the hayfield:
rows of marrow and bone undone.
The horizon’s flashing fastens tight,
sealing the blue hills with vermilion.
Moss dyes a squirrel’s skull green.
The cemetery expands its borders—
little milky crosses grow like teeth.
How kind time is, altering space
so nothing stays wrong; and light,
more new light, always arrives.


Image from PBS

Feeding the heart

winter bird
Today is  new day.
I am creature of habit
Bird watching weather permitting
Standing at the entrance of the park
With a handful of bird seeds
The seeds will feed the birds
The joy of birds feeding
Will feed my heart.

Image source: Barb Markway