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Viewing 10 - 18 out of 38 Blogs.
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“One wish†the genie said with a sly wink, “consider carefully.
â€
I knew then that it would take some time, that I had to ponder the possibilities. Life, with it’s endless twists and turns is a mystery. Everything, they say, happens for a reason. If not for the experiences of life, one would not be who they are. I decided immediately that changing the past was out of the question, for in the end, I am happy with who I have become, good and bad. I am who I was meant to be.
I thought about wealth then and my emotions stirred. I imagined all of the wonderful things that money could buy and the security that I’d have. I imagined life without struggle and the ability to give my children and grandchildren all they would desire, a heady thought. Suddenly, I thought of all of the wealthy people I had ever known or heard of and knew it could not be my wish. Great wealth, in the end didn’t solve anything. If I chose wealth as my one wish, the consequences might be dire. Would I then set a precedence in my grand children’s lives of what truly mattered? Would my one wish become my worst nightmare? What then would the future hold for my descendents? No, wealth was not the answer.
Should I wish for world peace? What would be the consequences of that? Would overall world peace bring with it tolerance for the monsters of this world? If stripped of the ability to fight for what is right, would we have to endure tyranny? Though I certainly would love to personally experience a peaceful world, I love freedom more. I love the inner spirit of mankind that stands up and opposes what is wrong.
Without that, what kind of world would it be?
My mind drifted to Godly matters. I smiled then, for I knew that my salvation was a gift and that it was already mine. God promised. So I didn’t wish for spiritual things because I had that wish already.
I looked up at the genie and smiled then, for I knew that there was one wish that would never be wrong. One wish that I could make where the consequences would be worth taking no matter what. It was so simple. It was so right. It was perfect.
“I wish that everyone in the whole world would know love. Even if lost, it’s memory fulfills. If given away, it’s still with you. If received, is the perfect gift. That is my one wish.
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Tags: writing
Springtide Awakening Spring comes softly in the beginning, like a whisper, secretly hatching crocus from winters long repose. Beckoning, winter embraces longer days, delivering Spring to the arms of Morpheus, a renaissance of life and human rebirth ensues. Life is reborn again with a baptism of spring showers; a revival of joy and rejuvenated spirits, Awakening flora and fauna, hatchlings and sprouts. Springtime gushes forth in vivid crescendo, as humankinds’ souls stir, body, mind and spirit, a catharsis, casting off of old ways to a reformation; Resurrected spirits are reborn.
Tags: Poetry, Spring
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For Ken
Posted On 04/03/2011 05:59:34
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Until We Meet Again I missed you as soon as I saw goodbye in your eyes; those same eyes that searched mine for forever, found it and held that steady stare. I missed you as I watched you go; only wishing to call you back to let me go with you, knowing that it is not yet time, not now. I glimpsed forever in hues of blue and will dream of the blue skies of your eyes every day until we are together again. Parting felt like a knife; yet the stab didn't bleed, for only tears can fall until we are together again. I miss you still.
Tags: Poetry, love
Written to Moonlight Sonata Possession Deeply, I grieve the loss of you, tears of hopes lost lament; singing a durge of yesterdays, and for all you truly meant. The moon, it mocks silently; stars have lost their allure; my soul will ache eternally, of that I can be sorely sure. I pray you not posses me; my fate cannot lie in your hands. Release me from captivity; I would dearly love to love again.
Tags: Poetry, Legacy
Tags: Poetry, Harmony, Legacy
For me, painting is a way to forget life. It is a cry in the night, a strangled laugh. ~Georges Rouault
Tags: Poetry, Harmony
He always thought of the sea as la mar which ... is what people call her in Spanish when they love her. Sometimes those who love her say bad things of her but they are always said as though she were a woman. Some of the younger fishermen, those who used buoys as floats for their lines and had motorboats, bought when the shark livers had brought much money, spoke of her as el mar which is masculine. They spoke of her as a contestant or a place or even an enemy. But the old man always thought of her as feminine and as something that gave or withheld great favours, and if she did wild or wicked things it was because she could not help them. The moon affects her as it does a woman, he thought. .. Ernest Hemingway: The Old Man and the Sea
The Old Man and the Sea
He stands amid the bustling harbor,
a quiet reminder of man’s
love affair with the sea;
his life intermingled in her,
his youth spent trying to conquer her,
now he simply loves her.
He breathes deeply of her scent,
intoxicated by brine and charged air,
watching her movements
with the trained eye of a mariner,
lifetime lover.
Through the years,
he had confessed to her his sins,
spoken to her in sullen tones of
his hopes and dreams.
She’d thrilled him and betrayed him,
abused him and rocked him to sleep.
She was the constant in his life.
Now, as the years marched on,
he dreams of lying with her in death,
dreaming of life on the shoreline.
At what point they became one soul,
he didn’t know,
but he cherished every memory of her;
as he stood gazing out at her,
the old man and the sea.
Tags: Poetry
Secret Place There’s a secret place in this heart of mine; Where memories live in a past behind, Protected by walls and watery mote, A castle tower filled with such hope. That’s where love resides, quiet and secure, A young girl lives there, so sweet and demure. She gathers to her such special dreams, And only whispers about lovely things. The real world roars outside the walls, Yet she doesn’t hear it, not at all.
Tags: Poetry, Legacy, Harmony
Winter Magic Joy is a child in snow; snow angels are magical as is chrystaline breath. Snowflakes fall in a flurry, as children will dance make believing that the snow dances too. Icesicles become popsicles, snow forts are real; as children search for a hiding Jack Frost amidst the magic of winter.
Tags: Poetry, Harmony, Pub
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