Poetry for the Soul

                                              

Yesterday is history.
Tomorrow is a mystery.
Today is God's gift,
that is why we call it the present.

                        Anonymous

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The Path That Leads To Nowhere

There's a path that leads to Nowhere
In a meadow that I know,
Where an inland island rises
And the stream is still and slow;
There it wanders under willows
And beneath the silver green
Of the birches' silent shadows
Where the early violets lean.

Other pathways lead to Somewhere,
But the one I love so well
Had no end and no beginning --
Just the beauty of the dell,
Just the windflowers and the lilies
Yellow striped as adder's tongue,
Seem to satisfy my pathway
As it winds their sweets among.

There I go to meet the Springtime,
When the meadow is aglow,
Marigolds amid the marshes, --
And the stream is still and slow. --
There I find my fair oasis,
And with care-free feet I tread
For the pathway leads to Nowhere,
And the blue is overhead!

All the ways that lead to Somewhere
Echo with the hurrying feet
Of the Struggling and the Striving,
But the way I find so sweet
Bids me dream and bids me linger,
Joy and Beauty are its goal, --
On the path that leads to Nowhere
I have sometimes found my soul!
                                            Corinne Roosevelt Robinson

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Sista to Sista

We are made from the same cloth

woven together by a silver thread.

Our spirits have laughed and cried many lifetimes together.

In this life we are sisters.

Tears of joy, tears of sadness

bond the special moments of our lives

We stood strong

sharing dreams and secrets as others

flowed through our lives leaving their footprints on our hearts.

As the years passed, dreams became realities.

What sweet songs sprang forth from your heart,

as I took the pen to make these precious moments last forever.

                                                  JJM

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Mommy, why do people stare at me?

Because you are the chosen one.

Mommy, why do strange sounds utter from my mouth?

Because you still singing the sweet music of the angels.

Mommy, why don't my legs let me walk or my hands hold a cup?

Because your body is a temple that God is still building.

Mommy, does God still love me the way I am?

Yes, my son, how could he not, when you are his Perfect Child.

                                                                                                               JJM

Angels, Poetry and Prose

Thank you for being our guardian angel!
Having come to our rescue in our time of need.
Angels love people as parents love children,
Nor could we a better have found of the breed,
Knowing how hard such a one is to wangle!

Yet you, with your wings and your halo half-hidden,
On us have descended with glory unbidden,
Undoing the darkness our fate had decreed.

                                                       anonymous

One evening while doing my power walk at the track, I was asked by several children to retrieve a ball that one of them had kicked accidentally onto the grassy area of the track over a high wrought iron fence. Looking into their pleading faces, I decided to retrieve the ball. I had to step onto the grassy area that was overgrown with weeds and tall grass. A little apprehensive about stepping into this miniature jungle, I hurried to get the ball. Putting my keys into my pocket, I picked up the ball and tossed it toward the fence. It bounced off the fence. Laughing at my folly, I tried again and again. Finally, moving closer to the high fence, I managed to get the ball over it. 

As I turned to resume my walk, I put my hand into my jacket pocket and my keys were gone. I had dropped them somewhere in the grass.  I screamed out to the children, I had lost my keys. They tried to help me but there was little they could do standing on the other side of the fence.  I looked around the area and was unable to locate them.  I soon became frightened and worried, because both my car and house keys were on the same chain and dust was settling in. Soon a couple of adults on the other side of the fence offered to help. One went to get a flash light.  I stopped searching and called out, “Angels I need your help.”  I had no more uttered the words when I turned around and saw my keys lying in the grass a few feet away from me.  Elated I grabbed them, and the children, who never left the fence, screamed in delight. Indeed, angels do come to our rescue in time of need. Thank you angels, I love you….

National Poetry Month and Timeless poetry

In celebration of National Poetry Month enjoy the timeless poetry of Rumi and other enlightened poets.

Some people work and become wealthy.
Others do the same and remain poor.
Marriage fills one with energy.
Another it drains.
Don't trust ways, they change.
A means flails about like a donkey's tail.
Always add the gratitude clause
To any sentence, if God wills,
Then go...
                                          Rumi

Living

Oh, what a beautiful thing.
I didn’t know how blessed I was until I woke hearing the birds chirp,
Seeing the sun rising and smelling the lilies blooming.
Oh, what a beautiful thing
I didn’t know how blessed I was until I felt the warm heart beats of the
Ones I love and walked in the shoes of my neighbors and friends.
Oh, what a beautiful thing.
I didn’t know how blessed I was until I stretched my mind
To see beyond the ordinary and reach out for the unattainable.
Oh, what a beautiful thing,
I didn’t know how blessed I was until I released the shuckles
That bound my mind that kept my body in bondage.
Oh, what a beautiful thing----Life

                                             Anonymous

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I asked God to take away my habit.
God said, No.
It is not for me to take away,
but for you to give it up.
I asked God to make my handicapped child whole.
God said, No.
His spirit is whole, his body is only temporary
I asked God to grant me patience.
God said, No.
Patience is a byproduct of tribulations;
it isn't granted, it is learned.
I asked God to give me happiness.
God said, No.
I give you blessings; Happiness is up to you.
I asked God to spare me pain.
God said, No.
Suffering draws you apart from worldly cares and brings you closer to me.
I asked God to make my spirit grow.
God said, No.
You must grow on your own!
But I will prune you to make you fruitful.
I asked God for all things that I might enjoy life.
God said, No.
I give you life, so that you may enjoy all things.
I ask God to help me LOVE others, as much as He loves me.
God said...Ahhhh, finally you have the idea.

                                                              Anonymous

National Poetry Month

National Poetry Month is a celebration of poetry first introduced in 1996 by the Academy of American Poets as a way to increase awareness and appreciation of poetry in the United States. It is celebrated every April in the United States. Throughout this month I will be posting poetry, so come back and enjoy the wonderful poetry of local and national poets.  

Living

Oh, what a beautiful thing.
I didn’t know how blessed I was until I woke hearing the birds chirp,
Seeing the sun rising and smelling the lilies blooming.
Oh, what a beautiful thing
I didn’t know how blessed I was until I felt the warm heart beats of the
Ones I love and walked in the shoes of my neighbors and friends.
Oh, what a beautiful thing.
I didn’t know how blessed I was until I stretched my mind
To see beyond the ordinary and reach out for the unattainable.
Oh, what a beautiful thing,
I didn’t know how blessed I was until I released the shackles
That bound my mind that kept my body in bondage.
Oh, what a beautiful thing----Life

Anonymous 

When the world seems to be blowing apart
while I'm outside in a crowd, on the bus, riding in the car from one place
to another, watching the aggravation and discourtesy and plain meanness
of folks, I put the key into our front door, open it and
there is pure and simple beauty and peace. It's as if this old house, that
has been the epicenter of our lives, has warm arms that embrace with
goodness, kindness, love - and I am, at last, home!
I sit in the rocker facing the door and marvel at the comfort and pleasures
of this house and all of the pitter-patters, the laughter, the tears, happiness
and joys, the memories it holds and I am whole again.
I believe loving, growing, guiding and teaching goes on as long as we all
live. . .and beyond. It's impossible to tell you how absolutely miraculous
it is to have you to love, to grow with, to teach (as you, still, teach us) and
to guide you (you oftentimes guide us). Jackie Gleason said it succinctly,
"how sweet it is!"
We have been privileged to see, firsthand, the amazing power of the hu-
man spirit as we've watched you struggle desperately to live good lives
and to be successful in your diverse careers. What a wonder!
I want to thank you for choosing us as your parents (it, indeed, I believe,
was your choice) and know that we did our very best, enjoying the many
moments we shared together in this old house filled with Memories.


Ruth Owens
 

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