Something to Think About

“All things and all people … call on us with small or loud voices. They want us to listen. They want us to understand their intrinsic claims, their justice of being. We can give it to them only through the love that listens.” Paul Tillich

What if each of us were able to listen to another without interruption?

What if each of us were able to understand each another without letting our innate biases color our understanding?

What if each of us felt accepted unconditionally as we are at the present moment?

I speak for myself. I’d like that kind of world. How about you?

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A Thing of Beauty ~ Poem by John Keats

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its lovliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o’er-darkn’d ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
‘Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven’s brink.

 

 

Love’s Language ~ Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Love’s Language

When silence flees before the voice of Love,
Of what expression does that god approve?
Is dulcet song or flowing verse his choice,
Or stately prose, made regal by his voice?
Speaks Love in couplets, or in epics grand?
And is Love humble, or does he command?

There is no language that Love does not speak:
To-day commanding and to-morrow meek,
One hour laconic and the next verbose,
With hope triumphant and with doubt morose,
His varying moods all forms of speech employ.
To give expression to his painful joy.

To voice the phases of his joyful pain,
He rings the changes on the poet’s strain.
Yet not in epic, epigram or verse
Can Love the passion of his heart rehearse.
All speech, all language, is inadequate,
There are no words with Love commensurate.

The Rulers of Destiny ~ Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The Rulers of Destiny

There is no chance, no destiny, no fate,
Can circumvent, or hinder, or control
The firm resolve of a determined soul.
Gifts count for nothing; will alone is great;
All things give way before it soon or late.
What obstacle can stay the mighty force
Of the sea-seeking river in its course,
Or cause the ascending orb of day to wait?
Each well-born soul must win what it deserves.
Let the fool prate of luck. The fortunate
Is he whose earnest purpose never swerves,
Whose slightest action or inaction serves
The one great aim.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

Be The Best You Can ~ Poem by Douglas Malloch

Be The Best You Can

If you can’t be a pine on the top of the hill Be a scrub in the valley—but be
The best little scrub by the side of the rill; Be a bush if you can’t be a tree.
If you can’t be a bush be a bit of the grass, And some highway some happier make;
If you can’t be a muskie then just be a bass— But the liveliest bass in the lake!
We can’t all be captains, we’ve got to be crew, There’s something for all of us here.
 There’s big work to do and there’s lesser to do, And the task we must do is the near.
If you can’t be a highway then just be a trail, If you can’t be the sun be a star;
It isn’t by size that you win or you fail— Be the best of whatever you are!

Douglas Malloch.

Today’s Quote on Courage

Extraordinary people survive under the most terrible circumstances and they become more extraordinary because of it.

Robertson Davies