I will not be deterred,
my heart will not be dissuaded.
This choice I have made,
this laying down of
what I have thus far known
and the taking up of
what I believe can be
is the journey set
before my feet.
The line drawn,
the curtain parted.
I will try,
I will see it through.
And if I fail,
at least
I have
dared–
and lived.
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Beat
of Change
Change invariably comes,
altering the regular beats
of our
lives into a
strange
new melody.
Whether it tumbles in
as
rocks down a hill
shattering into unrecognizable
shards
all we once knew,
or as the tinkling of bells
reminding us of something
beyond
ourselves,
change
makes itself known
in between the crevices
and in
the shadows of corners,
hiding behind an illusioned
world
of predictability we have
laid deep within our lives.
We
wonder at it,
try to
understand its way,
but how
can you understand something
that is always remaking itself?
Are we
even meant to comprehend the
chords
of change and the turning
of
movements sung through
the strings of our hope and pain?
Or is
there indeed divine
guidance within them?
Surely
change will come,
but the question is...
how
will you respond to it?
What
note will you play
in the
song of change?
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Falling
Up
When I hear your whispered words
Upon the cool night air,
I close my eyes and brush your face
To feel your love so fair.
The beauty of the evening
Is reflected in your eyes,
And the brilliance of the stars
Are straight from heaven’s skies.
Say those words again to me,
The ones I long to hear.
That you have loved me enough to die
Just so I’d be near.
Sing to me the song of grace
Created long ago,
Then I will look into your heart
And see the moon below.
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One
Day I Sat With the Wise
...And asked what greatness is.
For it seemed to me the world
was full of people well known,
full of talents and gifts
beautiful of face and
riches beyond compare.
Surely, this is what greatness is.
The wise sat in silence
and looked out to the sea,
looked at my face and said,
“This is what greatness is.
It’s when you have fallen
and get up again.
When you give everything
you have when nothing is left.
It’s crying all your tears
then finding a smile.
To go on when you
want to go home.
It’s following what you believe
instead of what others claim,
to dare to think– and follow through.
Greatness is to stand alone
yet being courageous enough
to stand united together.
It’s to see the vision beyond
what you know and
to realize there is more
beyond what is you.
Greatness is walking through the fire
when you could have taken a swim,
to do
what is right and
not what is acceptable.
Greatness is to seek God’s face
in the darkness and when
you find it, to let all other lesser things go
and to hold onto him with your entire self.
That’s what greatness is.”
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Carried in Prayer
Guided by the warmth of your hand
before our Father’s throne,
you help me take the difficult steps
I fall from on my own.
The words you say-
they blow me away
as you thank him while I’m known.
Overcome I bow before him
beside you soul laid bare,
for three have come together
in the silence we have shared.
Through your tender words you’ve shown
that you are here, I’m not alone,
when you carry me in prayer.
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Smile-Maker
Tiny spoons stir
little amber waves
as the pot is poured
into cheerful hearts
thirsty for
smiles exchanged
over steaming cups of tea,
the honey swirling down below
amidst the depth of conversation
forming a cherished sweet sip,
a warmth to be savored,
laughter to be shared
along with the scones
dripping with English jam
and clotted cream
edged with English lace.
What a gift of life to hold
like flowered tea-cups in your hand,
knowing you will think of this,
and smile once again.
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Value
of Naught
Even a hole that is
nothing is something.
Though it has been
taken away,
its emptiness allows
the light within to
spill forth into the
world beyond.
And while the wood
burns, does it not
glow in glory,
sending forth warmth
and flickering brightness
to those who
walk in darkness?
And what of the dirt?
Is it not the very entity that
all things are
founded upon?
The trees and
all living things
find their nourishment
beneath them
amongst the soil.
These nonexistent and
dying things,
yet it is they I use to
show my face.
Can I not do the
same with you?
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What is
Art?
Art...
Dare you define it?
Is it line or color,
a woman smiling?
Architectural design
or the graffiti as it
passes by you on the
train?
Does it consist of
oil paint or dappled
glass,
a Moroccan castle in the
east?
Or does it have morality at all?
Can it be good or bad,
mean spirited or made in
righteous anger?
Art for art’s sake or something else...
Perhaps it makes people see
something common in
a new way,
or it could be an
invitation.
Can art be a green board
reclined against
the wall?
What does that say?
Is it golden toned landscapes
falling down from their frames,
or statues dancing in the
paint?
There is genius to offend, to teach,
to show us beauty
we had missed.
What does art mean for you?
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