You’ve asked me to speak to you concerning Love. In all humility, how could I even dare to attempt to explain the mystery of this heaven-sent feeling?
Have not better scholars and brilliant poets undertaken this task sufficiently?
Understanding Love and trying to give one a clear, easy definition is a thing which troubles the imagination in its description for many times words stumble in the effort, leaving much to be desired. Still, Love deserves this effort!
This wonderful feeling plucks our heart strings like the skillful fingers of a master harp player. The musical notes rise upward from heart to soul, heard by the one experiencing the feelings and surely by the Angels of Heaven. Such is my poor attempt to explain Love.
To those who have never experienced Love, no explanation will suffice. To those who have, any explanation simply brings forth a knowing smile.
When Love is present, life has full meaning and wonderment. Without Love, life is a vacuum and void.
Be vigilant, for you might be experiencing it without really understanding what it is, perhaps crushing it like the petals of a rose during its development.
There are different kinds of Love: such as parental and platonic Love or the Love of animals, art, music, or our Creator. Do not confuse one for the other as you live your life. Do not expect a guarantee in the Feelings Department, for there are none. Such is Love.
During all my hurried chase for wealth,
I sacrificed my youth and spoiled my health.
Two young lovers sharing a kiss…
Just one of the many things I missed.
So many things yet to do, so much I want to say.
The mirror reflects my wrinkled face, and hair turned whitish-grey.
I don’t remember smelling land after a cleansing rain
Or offering soothing words of comfort to those suffering alone in pain.
Did I notice children’s faces looking skyward in delight
As they held on tightly to their multi-colored kites?
Did I collect a seashell from a white beach sand,
And did I get to travel to a distant land?
Did I pluck daisy petals or ever smell a rose
Or even try to ice skate after the lakes all froze?
There’s so many things I could add to my lengthy lists,
Containing all the many things I apparently missed.
My race is run, my fortune won —
A hollow victory it would seem
For I missed out on simple things,
It is time I can’t redeem.
Of my own choice, I rolled the dice
To pursue my wealth
And paid the price.
In the quest, I lost the best when I lost my health.
Recording my sad litany
Reveals a truth which I cannot hide:
For though I have wealth, I’ll die a pauper’s death
With all my music still inside!
Just a reminder to remember to raise your awareness to your experiences – each and every day.
God’s blessings upon your journey!
He walked among us over rocky pathways
Many long years ago.
The message He brought was the one He taught
To free us and let us know.
Numbered among transgressors,
Beaten and scorned with shame.
He shouldered false accusations bravely
And never placed the blame.
Not happy with His suffering,
They sentenced Him to death.
They nailed Him to a cross
To draw His last earthly breath.
He was buried in a sepulcher
Which was hewn in stone.
Women prepared His body for eternal rest
And left Him all alone.
Just as the prophecy had foretold,
The stone was rolled aside:
Three days later, our Savior arose
To ascend and forever to abide.
The ultimate sacrifice for our sins –
A price we could not pay –
Was paid in full by our Savior.
Each year, we celebrate this act on each Easter Day.
Happy Easter, Everyone!
W. Foster Welborn
Born of the people,
Learning to live off the land.
As a boy, he learned a warrior’s ways
And grew to be a man.
Strong Bow hunted Tatanka, the buffalo,
With both bow and lance.
He guided his horse among the headlong rush,
Killing meat to feed the people when he got a chance.
He had wooed and won a pretty maiden’s hand,
Who became his wife.
They lived and loved while moving freely on the land,
Following a nomad’s life.
He danced with fellow warriors,
Circling the fire around.
War drums beat the rhythm,
And many moccasined feet beat tattoos on the ground.
That was when he was young and powerful,
A mighty warrior to behold.
He was fast and furious back then, many moons ago.
Now he was gray and old.
Strong Bow sat on his aging war horse atop a hill.
His shoulders slumped forward with his head hung down.
Cold winds blew around him,
Making the only sound.
The old warrior’s face smiled lamely.
It was a good day to die,
And soon his spirit would depart,
Taking wings to fly.
Cold wind knifed through his buckskins
Into his old body both weak and frail.
Strong Bow closed his eyes and softly sang his death song,
Having reached the end of his trail.
(Note: The above poem is a result of my thoughts that were evoked by this artwork.)
According to Kahlil Gibran, Love is the offspring of spiritual affinity *. Unless that affinity is created in a moment, it will not be created in years or generations. It is, indeed, wrong to think that love can come from long companionship and persevering courtship.
It is, in fact, the spiritual affinity that creates companionship in the relationship. This encourages respect for each other, a deeper friendship, and a lifelong joy of each other’s presence. It also encourages communication (the ability to talk with each other in lieu of at each other) when problems arise. Mind Games and manipulation are foreign to it.
May you be blessed with spiritual affinity with your mate.
God’s blessings upon your journey!
* The definition of affinity is: “Close relationship; connection; a natural liking, esp. a mutual attraction.”
Tags: Blessings, communication, companionship, connection, friendship, God, journey, Kahlil Gibran, Life, Love, manipulation, metaphysics, Mind Games, mutual attraction, New Age, New Thought, poem, Poetry, relationships, Religion and Spirituality, respect, spiritual affinity, spirituality, Thoughts, Truth, Understanding, wisdom
The only failure in life is to not attempt to begin again, so try again and do not be afraid to fail, again.
Nature renews herself year after year.
Are we humans not endowed with a Can Do Spirit?
Think about it: Since when did you become so timid and afraid to choose to take a risk in life and love?
This is from Autumn Leaves:
It’s already been said and written,
But a few more lines I’ll dare
The warning to sound,
The bell to ring
For he who still has to care.
Find truth and understanding,
Love that knows no bounds,
Make straight His path,
Accept His cross —
Before the trumpet sounds.
This comes from Autumn Leaves:
Pisces people grab a shooting star
And hold on tight,
Living, working, playing, and loving
With all their might.
On fire with exuberance of love and life,
And, like the salmon
On their upstream struggle,
They live, spawn, and die.
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Seek not for that which is not,
Nor ever was.
Follow not after lies
Or man-made cause.
Seek out truth and
“Peace be still.”
Let your heart and soul
Seek for that which was
And still is.
Love and Life —
Both are His.
More precious than the Rubaiyat
of Omar Khayyam.
Seek and find the one
And only true “I AM.”
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Momma Bear spoke so softly,
“You know, I’ve seen you around.
I’ve been waiting for someone just like you.
Please, don’t make a sound.”
“If you’ll just listen quietly,
I’ll tell you how I feel.
Just look down deep into my eyes.
You’ll see my feeling’s real.”
“I know you’re usually laughing,
But I see you’re sad inside.
Because I feel true vibrations,
Emotions you can’t hide.”
“Come stay with me for awhile,
And I’ll soothe your aches and pains.
I’ll brighten the spots on your face,
And really make you smile.”
The clown looked at Momma Bear,
His heart like pick-up sticks.
Caution weaved through his mind,
‘Cause bears and clowns don’t mix.
He gazed into her large brown eyes.
Her love came shining through.
He dwelled languorously there
In limpid pools of sunshine and skies of blue.
The end begins here with words,
Yet not a single sound.
Listen carefully to laughter’s merry peals.
Smile — it’s just Momma Bear and her Clown.