Mymind

  Be kind, because we’re only here for a little while, and we’re here together on the same blue and green planet, under the same deep sky, born of the same mystery and the same things that keep the world spinning. Be kind, because you don’t know every ounce of a person’s past, or what their future holds. You can hear what they share, But what of the pains and grief and fear they don’t yet have the voice to bare? What about the cracks in their heart where the light hasn’t poured in? What about these sorts of things? Be kind, because there’s hidden sorrow everywhere. There are mountains of anxiety too high to climb. There are emotions too raw to be set free. A polite smile is a master of disguise, even the heartiest people hurt sometimes. There are those who know a dread so deep, an unspeakable depth, as deep as the deepest seabed. There are dreams hiding like pearls within shells of defense. There are shadows fencing people in. Rain falls in the brightest places. For so many of us, ...

 

  5. Strength by: Jordan Rowan    There’s a chill in the air and wind ‘neath your boots There’s clouds in the sky and trees with roots If all were to fall onto your crying head, Would you carry it home or lie down dead? The strength you have defines your choice Will you whimper and cry or show your voice? Through sorrow and pain and happiness and joy You either run and hide from all those you employ Or show them what you’re made of inside For what you do becomes who you have to hide Not what you say with fury or a gentle tone But the actions you take when you’re all alone When you’re down and out, almost recluse And you feel as if you have no use If you still get up and challenge yourself You will become prisoner to no one else   There’s a song in the air and dirt ‘neath your boots A song that carries on down to your roots Back from the days of no chores or worry When nothing was done in any sort of hurry You can hear these words in the back of your mind And it takes...

 

  Anger by Charles and Mary Lamb Anger in its time and place May assume a kind of grace. It must have some reason in it, And not last beyond a minute. If to further lengths it go, It does into malice grow. 'Tis the difference that we see 'Twixt the serpent and the bee. If the latter you provoke, It inflicts a hasty stroke, Puts you to some little pain, But it never stings again. Close in tufted bush or brake Lurks the poison-swelled snake Nursing up his cherished wrath; In the purlieus of his path, In the cold, or in the warm, Mean him good, or mean him harm, Wheresoever fate may bring you, The vile snake will always sting you.

One Art BY ELIZABETH BISHOP The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn’t hard to master. Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel. None of these will bring disaster. I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn’t hard to master. I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster. —Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident the art of losing’s not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

  Auguries of Innocence BY  WILLIAM BLAKE To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour A Robin Red breast in a Cage Puts all Heaven in a Rage A Dove house filld with Doves & Pigeons Shudders Hell thr' all its regions A dog starvd at his Masters Gate Predicts the ruin of the State A Horse misusd upon the Road Calls to Heaven for Human blood Each outcry of the hunted Hare A fibre from the Brain does tear A Skylark wounded in the wing A Cherubim does cease to sing The Game Cock clipd & armd for fight Does the Rising Sun affright Every Wolfs & Lions howl Raises from Hell a Human Soul The wild deer, wandring here & there Keeps the Human Soul from Care The Lamb misusd breeds Public Strife And yet forgives the Butchers knife The Bat that flits at close of Eve Has left the Brain that wont Believe The Owl that calls upon the Night Speak...

  The Tempest by   James T. Fields  (1817-1881) We were crowded in the cabin; Not a soul would dare to sleep: It was midnight on the waters, And a storm was on the deep. ’Tis a fearful thing in winter To be shattered by the blast, And to hear the rattling trumpet Thunder, “Cut away the mast!” So we shuddered there in silence, For the stoutest held his breath, While the hungry sea was roaring, And the breakers threatened death. And as thus we sat in darkness, Each one busy in his prayers, “We are lost!” the captain shouted, As he staggered down the stairs. But his little daughter whispered, As she took his icy hand, “Isn’t God upon the ocean, Just the same as on the land?” Then we kissed the little maiden, And we spoke in better cheer; And we anchored safe in harbor When the morn was shining clear.

Mevlâna Jalâluddîn Rumi The Journey Come, seek, for search is the foundation of fortune: every success depends upon focusing the heart. Unconcerned with the business of the world, keep saying with all your soul, “Ku, ku,” like the dove. Consider this well, o you whom worldliness veils, God has tied “invocation” to “I will answer.” When weakness is cleared from your heart, your prayer will reach the glorious Lord. [III, 2302-5] Even though you’re not equipped, keep searching: equipment isn’t necessary on the way to the Lord. Whoever you see engaged in search, become her friend and cast your head in front of her, for choosing to be a neighbor of seekers, you become one yourself; protected by conquerors, you will yourself learn to conquer. If an ant seeks the rank of Solomon, don’t smile contemptuously upon its quest. Everything you possess of skill, and wealth and handicraft, wasn’t it first merely a thought and a quest?[III, 1445-49] O God, You who know all that is hidden You who speak ...

 Highest form of love is to forgive 

  Spring Pools These pools that, though in forests, still reflect The total sky almost without defect, And like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver, Will like the flowers beside them soon be gone, And yet not out by any brook or river, But up by roots to bring dark foliage on. The trees that have it in their pent-up buds To darken nature and be summer woods- Let them think twice before they use their powers To blot out and drink up and sweep away These flowery waters and these watery flowers From snow that melted only yesterday. Robert Frost