Trust in God...is easy, perhaps for God...but sometimes us men have great difficulty with the concept. In God's time...keeping long track with my antique watch.
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Trust in God...is easy, perhaps for God...but sometimes us men have great difficulty with the concept. In God's time...keeping long track with my antique watch.
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Indeed, each of us a pixel, of the human psyche...but important enough to Christ who allowed Himself to be crucified for all, no exclusions. We may see ourselves as mere pixels, but God sees us, perhaps, as part of the Greater Body of His Christ portrait..?! Who am I to argue with the One who gave me Life, and so much living opportunity? So much power...my conglomerate able to beautify or destroy an entire world?
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I espouse no particular care for nature scenes with manmade structures, though I must admit some small indulgence in nostalgia at the thought that someone, with nature, shared this time and space and perhaps each became a part of the other
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We must
know hate to love! God seems to have
had a garden difference? Perhaps? -- a little snake
in most our psychologies.
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“I think you were born for this time and place. You can call it fate or Divine Providence, but you were born for this.
Sometimes I think our lives were predestined to go down a certain path.
Oh, we can choose the good or the bad along the way, but ultimately, perhaps we are predestined for things beyond our control. It is not acurse, but a gift, to be embraced and used in the right way.” - Dan "Doc" Thomas, The Rushing Tide
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Always more we could have said, should have said. But what love has been given, is never lost, though perhaps deeply planted in the firmament of time. It is God's Law and Promise to humanity...that there will be a rich harvest for those who remain faithful to the core tenderness of His Sacred Heart.
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"My heart is a library where words come alive"~Rirhandzu Manzini
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I have learned very little worthwhile about life from books, other than perhaps the Bible. And nothing of value from Social Media.
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Indeed, enjoy nature, being one -- no drama in cities is not also enacted in a forest canopy as well as its shadowy, mysterious plotting depths. Perhaps more honestly? A sprinkle of sunlight blooms a long way.
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As I have often said, I know nothing...my writing is another way of inviting others, who are perhaps yet somewhat bewildered as I, to join me with a word-candle in the labyrinth of human, poetic consciousness.
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A stolen heart is perhaps the most profound of any larceny ... its theft removes any joy that once flourished, and places anguish inside an empty soul.
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I am surprised how such a small oval birdbath I keep in my backyard, attracts so many birds of different species. Of course, I do live in a desert. A lesson in there somewhere. Perhaps make a desert of one's heart, put a small bath of new love offered, and see what winged beauty it may attract.
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One day we all die. All that remains are the photos and memories. Perhaps a person could write it all down and leave something of themselves behind; their thoughts, their memories. And in their written thoughts, perhaps "Love" is eventually understood and found. One day we all die. We all die one day. I shall ghost with the best of them ... a very ghostly ghost.(LadyLabyrinth/Leanne Lovejoy-Burton)
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One day we all die. All that remains are the photos and memories. Perhaps a person could write it all down and leave something of themselves behind; their thoughts, their memories. And in their written thoughts, perhaps "Love" is eventually understood and found. One day we all die. We all die one day. I shall ghost with the best of them ... a very ghostly ghost.(LadyLabyrinth/Leanne Lovejoy-Burton)
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No one who loves
is ever entirely forsaken – perhaps by man,
but never by God~ Our Eternal!
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Perhaps we can not express certain experiences using words, but the reader can draw themselves into deeper thoughts from the words to experience it themselves.
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Easiest identifiable emotion comes from heart though relations exists in various forms. The community prefers to remain delude with easiest option available. Glamour, the most dominating illusion some how slips out of celluloid screens and transforms every single being.
Aligned with traditions and seen with respect, refurbished with values......life is much beyond.
Every life is a rhapsody deserving legacy... short yet beautiful... may we make it!
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As every moment passes by, I feel burdened by the thought that perhaps, a lifetime is nothing. It is entirely nothing, just another breathing space created by the intertwined threads of time, and when that given time is bled dry, the space will disappear, only to become the breath of a someone that doesn't require time.
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Shiva ka janm Naam sey hua jaab sansar Mai kuch nahi hai wha ek dunivani utpan hue ek rang or samay ya kaal yantra tantra mantra or wow tej raftar Mai doad laga di maa dekh thi rha gayi or phir hua nirmaan maan saman dev dannav booka bharam.
Aghori mhabharamnad
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Ganga Devi bole ko bolti hai aapko bhi dhyan waad Jo AAP etani duoor mere khoj Mai aaye Jaal garhan kare parbu.taab jaa kar bole ko gaana mile.
Aghori mhabharamnad
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Bajarang Bali key putar ka naam Arjun hai biwi angana hai mhabhart hi jeena ki survat thi humans ki chopies Mai bhi varnit hai dropati ka jaab chir haran ho rha tha taab sab shant es liye thai koun ki koi yudha bhumi nahi thi.
Aghori mhabharamnad
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"...that must be the mission of all, to do more than thought possible, for what each is called, perhaps the improbable..." from the poem "Our Mission" by Max Sebastian Burchett
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Jawani me playboy burhapay me tabdeeli sarkar niazi Teri kia baat hai yaar tera leak audio call me nay suna aik dam mast tha.
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The poet, the writer ... is sharing their thoughts and feelings with the universe on another level. Revealing their greatest vulnerabilities as some sort of cathartic alm towards understanding and empathy, or there for the grace of God go I. Perhaps a confessional place where they commune with themselves and readers will acknowledge that similar darkness and light within themselves and not feel so different, or alone. This is the way of all writing, whether it is about joy, or despair.
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All stories written and lived are Light and Dark. Some are geared more towards exposing the light, as they reveal dark. Humour is both Light and Dark; perhaps in some instances humour is borne from dark. To experience Light, dark exposes itself, subtly or confronting. Without night, there is no morning.
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I am who I am,
Why I am so, I can't understand.
Some say I'm foolish,
Perhaps I am, but why, I'm clueless.
Seemingly, I am pointless,
But still, I am cool among the masses
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Zafar Bhai 2222 aunty ko bolo fir say chemical water paish na karay warna
tumhara lul par tail laga kar aunty par
charha dun ga drugs and injection shabo
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"Artist hide their art for fear of the loss of losing the love of their work for compensation and attention, the displacement of care and affection for concern and agony, and perhaps the jealousy that comes with knowing the thing you love most might be loved more by others, and it's your only one like a sole born child that's dowered off to the highest bidder, I prefer to let her stay and love her forever"
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Perhaps the heart, not the mind, retains the most memories when we fall in love.
because even if I didn’t know that I loved you before, my heart remembers you.
Originally written on April 3, 2021
10:21 AM
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