The Hope Of Loving ~ by Meister Eckhart

The Hope of Loving

by Meister Eckhart

What keeps us alive, what allows us to endure?
I think it is the hope of loving,
or being loved.
I heard a fable once about the sun going on a journey
to find its source, and how the moon wept
without her lover’s
warm gaze.
We weep when light does not reach our hearts. We wither
like fields if someone close
does not rain their
kindness
upon
us.

Advertisements

The Gladness of Nature ~ Poem by William Cullen Bryant

The Gladness Of Nature

By William Cullen Bryant

  • IS this a time to be cloudy and sad,
    When our mother Nature laughs around;
    When even the deep blue heavens look glad,
    And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground?
  • There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren,
    And the gossip of swallows through all the sky;
    The ground-squirrel gaily chirps by his den,
    And the wilding bee hums merrily by.
  • The clouds are at play in the azure space,
    And their shadows at play on the bright green vale,
    And here they stretch to the frolic chase,
    And there they roll on the easy gale.
  • There’s a dance of leaves in that aspen bower,
    There’s a titter of winds in that beechen tree,
    There’s a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower,
    And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea.
  • And look at the broad-faced sun, how he smiles
    On the dewy earth that smiles in his ray,
    On the leaping waters and gay young isles;
    Ay, look, and he’ll smile thy gloom away.

A Poem by Li Po

All the birds have flown up and gone;
A lonely cloud floats leisurely by.
We never tire of looking at each other –
Only the mountain and I.

– Li Po

Poem by Emily Dickinson on Joy

T’is So Much Joy

T is so much joy! ‘T is so much joy!
If I should fail, what poverty!
And yet, as poor as I
Have ventured all upon a throw;
Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so
This side the victory!

Life is but life, and death but death!
Bliss is but bliss, and breath but breath!
And if, indeed, I fail,
At least to know the worst is sweet.
Defeat means nothing but defeat,
No drearier can prevail!

And if I gain, – oh, gun at sea,
Oh, bells that in the steeples be,
At first repeat it slow!
For heaven is a different thing
Conjectured, and waked sudden in,
And might o’erwhelm me so!

– Emily Dickinson

Poem by Emily Dickinson on Life

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

Emily Dickinson – Poem retrieved from http://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/2678/pg2678-images.html

 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox’s poem about Love

UPON THE SAND.

By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

All love that has not friendship for its base
Is like a mansion built upon the sand.
Though brave its walls as any in the land,
And its tall turrets lift their heads in grace;
Though skilful and accomplished artists trace
Most beautiful designs on every hand,
And gleaming statues in dim niches stand,
And fountains play in some flow’r-hidden place:
Yet, when from the frowning east a sudden gust
Of adverse fate is blown, or sad rains fall,
Day in, day out, against its yielding wall,
Lo! the fair structure crumbles to the dust.
Love, to endure life’s sorrow and earth’s woe,
Needs friendship’s solid mason-work below.

Fill My Soaker Tub

“LC lets think about the basics,” said La Flor holding Little Carmen’s hand.

“Do use mean basically this and basically that,” asked Little Carmen.

La Flor said, “You’re so adorable, muscular, and … and … and.”

“And, what’s, beautiful, tough, and edgy one,” asked Little Carmen.

“Getting back to basics, LC. I want a poem every day telling me how wonderful I am,” said La Flor.

“I already has one ready, “Roses are red, violets are blue no one is cuter than use.”

“We’ll skip the poems,” said La Flor. Then she added, “This is a speed drill.”

“I am all speed for use, my beautiful, tough, and edgy one.”

“Let’s see how fast you can go to Starbucks and return with a mocha frappuccino. Pay attention. No melting allowed. No spillage allowed. Extra whipped cream.”

“I got it.”

“Ready, set, go, you’re on the clock. You fail, you’re out,” said La Flor.

What word or words can describe a hairy, muscular man wearing a skin tight Carmen’s Pizzeria t-shirt. None. He hurdled the shrubs, bounded on the hood of a car parked on the street, dodge cars crossing the street, and knocked over two trash cans, straight armed a jogger before he disappeared around the corner.

“Do you think you are being fair to Little Carmen?” I asked La Flor.

“Fair? Fair? If life were fair, Ray, every woman would be as beautiful as me. They’re not. So let’s not talk about fair.

“He might get tired of being treated this way and leave you,” I said.

“Surely you jest. Leave me? How often does one of your species get to be with someone like me? Don’t answer because the answer is obvious.”

“I think you’re emphasizing edgy.”

“I’ve got to bring LC back to the middle. He went too far to the edge. He was pushing the boundaries with the cooking gig.”

The door slams. Handyman time again. “I’m back. Did I makes it? I borrowed a 15 speed from a barrista,” said a puffing Little Carmen.

La Flor sips her drink, smiles, “Perfect LC. You passed test. Now, fill my soaking tub, put candles around it, and pour a glass of white wine for me. Don’t forget to lay out my terrycloth towels, body lotion, and put on my fav playlist.”

Little Carmen’s cell phone rings. He answers it, “Yes, Big Carmen. Yes, Big Carmen. Yes, Big Carmen. Yes, Lil Carlo.”

Little Carmen put the phone in his pocket, “I’m going to starts the water in the soaker tub, beautiful, tough, and edgy one, but I gotta go, Big Carmen got a problem, he needs a sub. I gotta go with Lil Carlo on an errand.”

Kiss, kiss, hug, hug,

“Be careful, LC.  Don’t get caught. Text me?”

“Will do, my beautiful, tough, and edgy one.”

“Don’t get caught?” I asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing?”

“Huh?’