I remember as I child
eyeing the Christmas
tree, all lit and broadcasting.
Early-on I realized that Father
was Santa. Mother sensed it
when they married. Father, let go of his
well defined ego, embraced the principal
to secure the family, protect and
serve selflessly onto death.
I am not just a tree but a tree of many lives
I have watched and protected for many years
My trunk has become strong and thick like armor
I am a fierce but gentle, always standing guard
I am burdened with pain and suffering of the seasons
Of many storms, some with heartache and destruction
Lightning has destroyed some of my limbs and branches
But my soul remains strong and as deep as my roots
I provide homes for nature’s beautiful creatures
Birds still build nests on my limbs of branches
My leaves are like many fingers providing shelter
From the hot sun, the cold rain and frigid snow
My oak leaves protect and camouflage
Many needy creatures have lived for years
Safely thriving in homes, I provided selflessly
As well as standing tall and guarding your home
Someday I know that my limbs and trunk may crack
And rot may take over and destroy my strength, as I fall
I hope you will be kind and salvage a piece of my soul
As a table or chair that you will forever honor in your home
Maybe someday I’ll be a super hero, maybe a drop of rain, but for now I am me and I can’t complain, I have to dig deeper, try harder be the best I can be, give with all my heart and love selflessly, for people are not perfect especially me…. Maybe someday I’ll be a super hero….
The heart will speak
with consent or not!
Will not be ruled
by logic Schooled –
Passion, a heart’s signet beat --
lesser thumps, go unrecorded.
No-way will a heart
be easily pacified – openly
bleeds~ inclined selflessly to feed
out...
Nor mere band-aide can
stem such profuse pouring, short of
a tourniquet noose -- its own rope
and spruce.
Yes, at its best, the heart cherishes,
and then, a pity, its own happiness
sometimes will raid – though the owner
tries reason, a world of intellectual appeasing,
the heart will simply not play nice -- will
not take its own tenderizing advice --
Will not let other source direct nor persuade --
The heart, of itself, both master and maid!
We were created with love,
By Love Himself, and to be loved.
Fashioned in the image of the Divine,
Breathing purpose from the very start.
Love for God who formed us from dust,
Love for our parents who guided our steps,
Love for our neighbors in need of grace.
Love selflessly given, poured out like rain,
Freely offered, never kept in chains.
Love without blemish, pure as the morning light,
Unstained by pride or hidden spite.
Love that uplifts the weary soul,
Encourages the broken to rise and be whole.
It is the thread that binds heaven to earth,
The quiet strength in moments of trial,
The gentle hand that restores what was hurt.
In giving this love, we reflect the Father’s heart,
And find the truest joy He meant from the start.
So let us live each day in this holy design —
Loving without measure, selfless and kind.
For we were created with love,
By Love, and forever to be loved.
success is stair-shaped ...
starting with baby steps ...
striding for childhood surety ...
selflessly sharing along maturity-seal ...
settled midst satisfied old age serenity ...
soaring toward gratitude-bliss' shine ...
sufficed along God-blest sustenance!!!
Duty
People talk of Purpose, as if there’s always choice
I am somewhat different, perhaps a solitary voice
The Modern World commands the self, where each is to their own
But I was taught to share my spoil, no circumstance bemoan
So toil I do relentlessly, and selflessly I prosper
I sacrifice ambition that the Ego seeks to foster
For I've become the Carer, not child nor husband now
The one who keeps the wheels greased, the broke down cars I tow
I work until my brain and bones, cannot sustain the pressure
I gasp when I get time to spare, a guilty token gesture
For I am here not for myself, nor for the higher calling
My steadfastness I here confess is try to stop Them falling
But if you ask why do it then, why subjugate your freedom?
I open wide my mouth to speak, but find no words of wisdom
It's who I am, it's what I feel, so simple in it's beauty
I live and breathe and do bequeath my sanctum for my duty
To so many, I owe my gratitude,
and I'm plagued by the pernicious weight
of an ungracious thankless attitude.
Do I hope to skate through Saint Peter's gate?
Indeed, many times, I have been blessed,
with kindness and compassion, undeserved,
as I have suffered pain or been distressed,
from those asking no reward, unobserved.
And likewise, I found that I've loved others
and given selflessly to those adored,
remembered, forgotten, sisters, brothers,
loving, itself, being its own reward.
Those whose kind acts of love have been conveyed
will rarely ask or need to be repaid.
It was never my intention,
not a conscious decision,
to cause you any level of grief.
Our give and take wasn’t as envisioned.
Blindly, I let you fall between my gaps.
It’s not right or wrong, but fact that
I got lost in a thronged rhythm
recovering from things life had given.
You have always shone a warm light
selflessly bright into my life.
Stern storms drowned my content,
turned me until forlorn bent.
I pursued a healing renewal but
my drenched attempts were futile -
I didn’t mean to hurl you into my duel.
Please accept my sincere apology
for giving less than you handed me.
I’d never set out to hurt another
but denying friendship gratitude
colors me pallid shades of rude.
Edvard's exile could not deter
the course as it flowed
or blood that drove
through his body
life had to change
when the soldiers came
bringing tanks and arms of oppression
machines of war rolled and crushed
Europe was hushed
marching on the 15th
raising flags and ideals
London resigned to opening doors
a haven of sorts
for a few
families and friends
were left to defend
breaking cogs to dismantle and hinder
the view
hiding to assemble
coded messages
that were shared and leaked
though aggression peaked
proving too strong to overcome
yet hearts still beat
and there lay a pulse
duty could not be ignored
as the voices aligned
with a throbbing increase
representing a nation
two and more gave themselves
and rose to the call of the people
standing up
proving no longer the victim
for human passion will smash and smelt iron
selflessly with a cost that would seem to outweigh
the weight of a loss
of one soulless life
we remember that day
the 27th of May
when Jan and Josef gave their all for the fight
and with them hope and freedom were alive.
She was a fabulous mother
A loyal wife, a devoted daughter
Selflessly helpful to those in need
She uplifted her family, friends, and neighbors
A good friend, a loyal citizen, devoted to God and her faith.
She was satisfied living through the adventures of others
They journeyed away from her, and she encouraged them from afar
She did not travel, and had few hobbies, she knit a little
She was content to wait
Wait for a phone call
Or a text
Or a zoom visit
Hungering for their stories
Listening to their hopes and dreams
Relieved she had none of her own
The Genesis of a Promised Seed
was and has always been a conflict.
Since primordial Eden and Eve,
between her grain against devil's trick.
His journey to the womb of Mary
is a testament of His sovereignty.
Bloodlines of imperfect humanity,
finely woven redemptive purity.
The night, a loving Father's hand
laid His Promised Seed to a manger.
Reaching the unlightened world,
yet rejected, spit upon and shattered.
The sundial in the Hands of the Almighty,
while He buries His Begotten selflessly.
The Omniscient One cast the Seed lovingly.
Yes He died, but soon He's risen victoriously.
Jesus, the Promised Seed of the Father
is now exalted, seated in heaven's Throne.
Though His heel was wounded with scar,
He trampled the devil's head, defeated and dethroned.
You were never the sunset to me, but always the crimson hue veiling the sun; The subtle shyness in the eyes of a maiden wildly in love with the moonlit boy, her prominent lobster red cheeks when she was a blushing mess under his soothing touch. The sly smile lingering around her lips on her way back home, giggling on the reminiscence of the chocolate discovered under her desk, gifted by her ‘anonymously well known lover’; You kissed the sky, a final adieu while diffusing selflessly into the aqua ocean, deep into the underwater world. I would then dive into the ocean, searching for you, till the ‘deadly piranhas’ whisper into my ear, “She is no more a part of your world”. Maybe then I would weep like a widower but my transparent tears would be washed away by the ‘sun kissed ivory waves’.
Heart of the Begonia is what my soul has seen.
As thee is whom I have seen.
Oh, what an art of the divine in it!
As if I was enchanted by it.
Heart of the begonia, what a beauty of your existence!
I get enchanted by that existence.
Amidst the world’s toxicity, I chose you.
And my soul touched the divine in you.
Heart of the begonia, you have lifted my eyes’ veil.
It showed me the divine universe by lifting that veil.
Oh, what a beauty in that sight!
I recalled the essence of my soul in that sight.
Heart of the begonia, perhaps we’ll meet in a beautiful mountain again.
In the beautiful dream where we will fall in love again.
The world thinks I am out of my mind.
No, my love, through you I discovered my awakened mind.
Heart of the begonia, I found my half soul in you.
Have you ever searched for me in you?
I love you selflessly without any expectations.
Is it love or lust if I have expectations?
Heart of the begonia, I am blessed to have found you.
As I see the divine in you.
If possible, don't complain about fate
Get rid of the sadness and the pains
The wind will blow it away
Life is short, love is not enough
Why bother for a minute in the sun
If possible, please release your heart
Living selflessly strong in the midst of life
Because I still know that giving is forever
Self-sufficient mind will be relaxed
If I can let my soul go with the wind
Knowing to let go will have a lot of things
Happy pleasure even though they are small
How peaceful is this life
If I could save the minutes
Quietly, not a bit noisy
In the middle of the market of life
I'm silently sleeping peacefully
Releasing sorrows with the raging wind.
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