Long More giving Poems
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TAGORE ON
I just happened reading Rabindranath Tagore’ s poem called “The Gardener.”
The Gardener XL: An Unbelieving Smile
“……the dark rim of your eyes.
Then smile as archly as you like
when I come again.”
I am a Wheel, my blood flows inward
Of its spokes.
I am a Star,
My blood dissolves
In its Middle.
The Middle is without Time.
Here is where I am born.
Here the Poet letting Go:
Pollen, Sac, Belly
To more giving
Yes—
The weeks go on
And I contemplate the Gardener
Basing on cumulative
Bending, drawing in
Giving Magnificence
Back to the Universe
Stranded between Reason and Awe.
Tagore brings the World
In as Word/song.
With Black and white
His work became tight
As the freest gift
In specially the Light.
-Daniel de Cullá
As I once again watched hate emerge from a person the other day
this thought occurred to me…
What if the world was suddenly plunged into darkness?
A darkness so thick no-one could see.
And what if this obsidian darkness into which we had been thrust…
was the kind of darkness into which…our eyes could not adjust?
How would we interact…where would we even start…
as we groped inside this darkness…unable to tell each other apart?
I wonder would we be more accepting and compassionate if this darkness did arrive?
Would we be more generous…more giving…
if we knew we needed each other to survive?
I wonder in this darkness…what kind of world would our world would be?
I wonder if hate and prejudice would be as prevalent…for people we cannot see?
I wonder if in this darkness love for one another we would reclaim…
I wonder if in this darkness we’d treat everyone the same…
As I once again watched hate emerge from a person the other day
a second thought occurred to me…
That we are plunging ourselves into darkness…with all this hate we’re setting free.
A hate that is already clouding our world…with anger and animosity.
A hate that already…for some people…makes it impossible to see.
And it saddens me how our hate is slowly plunging our world into eternal night…
And I pray that we can change this…while we’re still able to see the light.
You think it a lie, seeing that
old man in the mirror: some
imposter taking your name,
living in your house, calling
out to your wife as though
he had married her 40 years
ago and not you... what can
the old fellow want of you,
you wonder, and would ask,
but you fear his laughter....
So you never speak with him
and he runs the place just
as he sees fit: sleeping late,
eating early, taking a nap
and going for brief walks
when you'd prefer a jog.
He also doesn't care much
for taking those long drives
you love so much--too, too
far away from comfy home.
A thousand carefree miles
is but a dream to you,
while he shudders like it's
climbing Mount Everest!
Worst of all, he is less
patient with the myriad
fools of the world-- so
he'll rant and rave
when clerks misbehave.
And his politics! Right
and right he feels,
caring naught for the
downtrodden masses.
Yet he is kinder than
you ever were, more
thoughtful of others,
more giving, less taking.
He loves his friends and
doesn't seduce women
only to leave them empty.
Best of all, the old man
loves God-- he won't
see belief as folly,
for he has learned
the real illusion is
mortality, so he knows
death is a door, not
an impregnable wall.
You could learn much
from the old man
you share a life with,
but you won't, for
you are young--
what are God and
death and endless
soul to you...?
One of the most positive writes i have witnessed to date
Was written today and well worth the wait
An awesome Quatrain, by this Devonshire poet
If you have read her past writes, you would certainly know it
What we see in our world now, is what she wants us to see
Dinosaur remains are an example to me
This beautiful planet will gladly reveal
As she shares her histories, our mysteries reveal
If we let her breathe, sigh and flourish
She may be more giving, as we help her re-nourish
And this write will be remembered for its visionary
And her mysteries will be our history
Inspired by " Stunning Revelations from Ancient Maps "
By Carolyn Devonshire
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature3.php
Ezekiel 36:26 “A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh.”
He took away my hardened heart,
Pulled it from my body,
Replacing it with a gentler heart,
One who is kinder, more giving,
Believing that God CAN,
Yes, HE CAN….
He tore the darkness from my spirit,
Swapping it with a light
So sensitive, so tender, so brilliant
That only love can truly see the faith,
Trading the faith for the doubt,
Trading the grace for the greed,
Trading the light for the blackest deeds…
Where I don’t see a way,
Where I simply can’t pray,
He reminds me,
With the songs of the stars,
The silence of the forests,
The whispers of a heart,
That, with Him,
There is the promise of life,
Forever, eternity without dying,
Eternity – without even trying,
Because His love, inside
Abides throughout all time.
Oh, yes, GOD CAN
And, He always understands,
With His own hands
He replaced the dark nature,
With a generous spirit
One who knows that He is alive,
And, because He lives, I’ll never die.
I’m so very thankful that He is mine!
Without His love,
I’d still be lost, without a hope,
Unsure of how to cope…
Because He is with me, I’m blessed,
And I’ll attest to the joy inside,
Joy beyond compare – Joy that comes to those
Who know Jesus, the Prince of Peace,
Wonderful, Counselor, King of Kings,
The Son of God and the reason I believe,
He’s changed my cold heart,
From bad to good, from dark to light,
From destined for hell,
To the promise of a new life with Him
The saddest, maddest children usually find their way to my office.
I am the school counselor.
They arrive on their own, knocking, or just running in.
I always ask if they have permission.
Some do, many do not.
They need to tell me how angry they are, how sad, how mad.
Often quivering and screaming, sometimes adding lots of swear words.
I do not mind. I am the school counselor.
It is my job to let them do whatever they can to vent, to feel better.
When they are calmer, after playing cards or drawing a picture
or yelling and screaming their anguish I usually ask them
“who did you help today?”
Repeat screamers and whining wailers have helped no one.
The more giving, wiser child knows that helping someone else is the quickest way to bring a bit of joy to your own suffering heart.
children who refuse to try helping another person are the saddest
they do know the joy of a giving heart or helping hands.
I keep encouraging, hoping they will come around.
Many of these children are so hurt, they cannot get outside themselves.
Their feelings are all encompassing.
They do not see the benefit of helping anyone.
Me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, they are screaming.
Sadly remaining joyless.
I have carried this fire within me
for longer than I can remember.
It warmed strangers on cold nights
lit pathways for those who were lost
consumed letters I should not have kept
and showed me my own face
when I had forgotten who I was.
Today I feel it dimming
not with sorrow
but with the quiet
that comes to all things
that have burned faithfully, fully
without reserve.
The fuel that fed it
passion, youth, the fierce belief
that I could change the unchangeable
grows thin now
like oil in a lamp at dawn.
I do not call this defeat.
The fire taught me what it came to teach
that light given freely multiplies
that warmth shared returns as love
that even in burning
even in consuming all we are
we become something the world needs.
Now the flame grows contemplative
no longer leaping toward the stars
but settling into ember, into glow
into that deep red patience
that asks nothing of the wind.
I think of forests that burn
so new trees may rise from ashes
I think of a candle melting to nothing
having lit a hundred others
I think of the sun itself
burning at the center of all things
never once complaining of its slow expenditure.
This is the wisdom of fire
to give until there is no more giving
to illuminate without counting the cost
to transform and be transformed.
And when at last the final spark
releases itself into the air
to trust that what was light
becomes something else
something equally necessary
perhaps memory
perhaps inspiration
for another soul
who will tend their own flame in their own time.
I am not afraid of this ending
The fire has shown me how to burn
and now shows me how to rest
Both are sacred. Both are needed.
Let the ashes cool in their own time
Let them settle soft as prayer
Let them nourish what comes next
For I have been the flame
and the flame has been enough
I have lit my small corner of darkness
and the darkness, in its kindness
has held me gently
while I burned
Slip do dah!
Slip my way
Sliding slick surfing time dismay
Who is to say
When winds blow
Anchors distill today
Carried cases of bait to start the day
Who is to say
How many will I catch today
Prosperity some will pay
Others to fill the baskets of bull winkles tray
Laugh today
Some scenes of life carries scripts plots plays
Legendary short cuts take 1 began gray
But today life begins surpasses grasses blade
Today growth expands creative pathways
Today is the day no more giving gave away
Receiving reception manifested may
Over whelm greater is he who believed this day
Will last for eternities sake
This day smile releases extravagant benefits to stay
Long lasting living life by planned purposes way
Favors taken for granted, often will cease to be granted.
People won't keep giving, giving, and more giving,
If the receivers aren't willing to at least recognize
The efforts or means sacrificed in their behalf.
Granted, 'altruism' is a wonderful characteristic to possess;
The concept is even referenced in the Sermon On The Mount:
"Let not your right hand know what your left hand doeth";
But there are more scriptures encouraging gratitude than altruism.
Blessings taken for granted will soon cease to be granted.
If you pray, don't just keep asking, asking, and more asking.
Recognize express gratitude for what you received and keep receiving.
"Please" and "Thank You" are most important words in every language.
20150923
People often ask me
Where it is I'm living
The only thing I have to say is
I'm doing more giving than I'm gettin''
They all just nod their heads
Knowing where this conversations bound
And where it is I now reside
~ Broke Town ~
We have people always moving in
To the city daily
If you'd asked me this years ago
I would of said you're crazy
After all this is America
Where riches can be found
But it doesn't seem that way no more
~ Broke Town ~
With our new formed government
Taking care us
It's no wonder this once mighty nation
Is on the verge of bust
Have to figure that what goes up
Must eventually come crashing down
And wouldn't you know it's just our luck
~ Broke Town ~
One day it is I hope to move
Somewhere far away
But that can be so hard to do
In any town these days
For in the lap of luxury
I have no need to be found
I just wanna be outta
~ Broke Town ~