Be Happy, Be Strong, Live Life.
I write for the love of it;
helps me think clearer and
somehow it also gives me strength.
it's been healing, it's been a journey;
it's about me, being a mom,
persons who mean much to me, memories, discoveries,
where life has taken me
and where
I hope it will head.
I am moving forward, I'm happier today (1 May 2012)
A dog is barking,
it goes on and on.
No one is listening.
All else is quiet,
but sounds are abundant.
Televisions strain
through the night air,
like conversations
at each other.
Eyes scan the drive,
my ears have
gone before me.
Soft guitar strums,
a whiff of barbecue
floats by.
Tiny Christmas lights
wink through fences,
and shyly out windows.
A gentle breeze
lifts branches,
black leaves do a jig,
the clouds start to part,
enter a lofty moon.
Shortly she departs.
In and out,
playful stars dart,
disappearing too soon.
Faraway, a faint wail sounds,
alas, another dog
begins his revelry,
the stillness is broken.
A taxi drives by,
to drop a neighbour,
a dog begins howling,
a cat screeches,
dashes for cover,
a trash bin lid falls.
Stillness returns,
the road glistens,
sleep beckons,
televisions chatting,
no one is listening.
Got my tree up (it's 5ft), done with 25% of my to-do list..and still working on it...almost 10 days more...
Here's a little info about one of my favourite carols - 'O Holy Night'.
Did you know that 'O Holy Night' ('Cantique de Noël') was based on a French poem 'Minuit, chrétiens' (Midnight, Christians) by Placide Cappeau (1808-1877). The music was composed by Adolphe-Charles Adam(1803-1856) in 1847, and translated from French to English by John Sullivan Dwight (1813-1893). Cappeau was a wine merchant and a poet and had been asked by a parish priest to write a Christmas poem.
It is a beautiful carol, hymn and prayer.
Below is the direct English translation of the poem which was composed in French, the English version of the carol 'O Holy Night' is not a direct translation.
See the waves on the ocean, of constant movement,
of shifts, a rising, ebb and flow.
It is each one of us, until finally
each crashes, breaks or fades on some shore.
Each gathers force to rise to greater heights, so busily,
to become stronger than the next, gathering more
to overcome and ride over the wave in front.
Time is of the essence.
The surface teems with agitation, chaos and impatience.
Yet look down, just beneath, the vast ocean,
a limitless expanse, where all is calm.
Step into Life that teems alongside a great emptiness.
None is harried, none is loud.
Simplicity is foremost, time takes a back seat.
Let go, surrender and be free
of turbulence, restriction or constraints.
There is much to explore, look to any direction,
feel every sense come to life.
Consciously aware, let the mind breathe in a clarity
of experience, of beauty, colour, movements, a tranquility.
Light at our center glows bright once more.
Before long, the deepest journey of our self has begun.
An exploration of depth, splendour,
serenity and awareness will come to pass.
Live life not as a wave but as the ocean.
The tide has turned
where love was once.
No more.
This, my response.
To the thunderstorm that bellows,
only breath flows.
Loud curses abound
to soft prayers resound.
Wicked eyes glare,
courage returns its’ stare.
Conspiracy, paranoia
rears its’ head,
but only innocence is abed.
Blind harassment,
meets silent resentment.
Vile verbal onslaught
is but empty, am not distraught.
Violent engagement to seek,
meets meekness yet not weak.
Evil is his game,
in God’s spirit I keep aim
Strength wanes.
Fear invades like a crease,
turmoil in the surround.
Still, follow the gentle breeze,
justice will soon crown.
If I imagine a world
it will be a world undivided by oceans
and no boundaries.
If I imagine a garden
it will be wider than my eye could see,
laden with fruit trees,
flowers of every colour and bird sanctuaries.
If I imagine a leader
like Solomon, he would be all knowing,
born of wisdom to astound
so Peace will abound.
If I imagine a sound
it will be sweet melodies of vocals,
the gentle voices of angels.
in harmony with a tantalizing breeze,
that surfs the ocean to tease.
If I imagine death
it will be slumber of a mother’s peace
Slowly I will float from the earth
tenderly carried on waves with ease.
No weight, no shame, nor guilt of grief.
A time for reverie
why do we not spend it.
For our minds too, need a spree
of moments to refresh, fatigue to defeat.
Each day it strives to bring fruit.
So little time is given to re-boot.
There is power in service,
we are carried away, bankrupt of emotion.
The landscape is flat, we never see that crevice,
then we die to that dedication.
Through the cracks, do you see,
there’s more, why limit experience
to just a tiny me
in the whole of existence.
Create more moments in time,
splash colours across all memory.
Feel the heartbeat surge to song and rhyme,
the landscape undulate, art takes on poetry.
Can you feel the leaves rippling,
living is more than a fruit you see,
the horizon beckons, extending,
branches sway, stand tall, we are the tree.
This poem 'A nameless relation' was written by A Known Stranger. He has created many other poems on his website and I have enjoyed going through them, the poems express many different emotions and life situations (I have not finished going through them all).
I thought that this particular piece as I read it, was too good not to share because I think most of us bloggers will be able to appreciate the words, it's about you and me. To quote Aphrodite Orania 'this is a wonderful medium for most of us, who sail on the same boat to unveil, vent, confide, find solace and feel wanted and heard'... feels like a celebration of blogging.........
Though you are friend of mine Known in virtual world, living Far away and miles away, We do talk hours together with interest,over phones and mails , on subjects strange to discuss. We know not how we sparked nurtured and grew our bond To a nameless relation That seems bizarre
You hold a special place in my life So unique, that we share Our joy and worries , with out meeting, We understand each other Crossing the barriers of age and culture, Soothing each other with respect. I picture your smiles and moods How you think and behave A game which is interesting To play and enjoy.
I wish we hold this fragile Sphere of glassware with tenderness and hugs galore It will seem unusall to any Yet our relation is unique with fantasy to live and cheerish for life time It will be seem strange to many But this special relation I have With you , I owe is true and ……………………. And I wish I never shatter This fantasy with any eerie events …..
We are tiny specks in this vast universe from somewhere in that space we began. How did we come to be unique and diverse, is it the essence or matter that makes us man. We are human and humane we are to be. Each of us made from one special mold, yet when we come to be there is nothing but cells to see, is it the soul that finds a life or the life that finds a soul.
I am much more than the physical. To fulfill a destiny that seems inconsequential. But why me, for what purpose, did he create. The path we walk is never smooth or straight, distractedly we plod through detours, the heart engages the essence of me; more is my lot. But One who is greater enlightens our searches with a flame for man who cannot. To journey with wisdom from earth to that kingdom, what special gifts in our depths we hold, it is worth much more than gold. Open the eyes and see, it's not too late, look again the road is straight. (HA 2009)
I get to flit between all types of flowers with glee. What hues and fragrances would colour my view, I'm assuming, they enjoy it they way we do.
But life's not like that, so we constantly sneer. A bees' life is so mundane, I hear. Work so hard, carry the nectar, so keen, but who gets the credit, but the Queen.
We strive for things and mourn. never satisfied, for tomorrow we dream, while time and tide moves on. Today was the tomorrow, so it seems Tomorrow will be today, yesterday is no more. Make today count, and tomorrow will show the life you want it to be.
Who are we with such privilege
to be made of petals and emotions.
We shade our selves and image
with colours and warm notions.
We ponder
on pale hues to gaudy design,
from head to toe, to paint and flower,
our desire to shine.
We don't need flowers, but we yearn for them.
Fantasize, yet always in realism.
Love our garments, silks, lace, in a closet too small.
Which do we match, mirror mirror on the wall,
I don't have anything to wear, I declare.
Which to choose, the blue or red I toss,
which accessories and cosmetic, the pinks to browns to gloss.
Frame the eyes with mascara and liner, to shadow smoke or natural?
Our crowning glory be neat or wild, to straighten or to curl?
Finally to match our selves from head to toes,
sandals, pumps, or wobble on stilettos,
we'll bear some pain for fashion;
add that handbag full of secrets we cannot mention.
What myriad choices, entitled and bestowed.
There is beauty within, such affection and powers.
With a gift we are endowed
that choice to birth, it is ours.
This is our station, joy and pain,
the choice of birth is not ours.
We are sunshine, we are rain.
To be love and loved,
to bear our children,
to colour the earth,
to be a woman.
The toys, it's sad, have seen little light,
so infrequently used.
Radio or TV is not blasting today,
as if calm and quiet have fused.
I hear my child,
he is humming while playing with his jigsaw,
To hear such carefree, the tranquil, it touches my core.
I weep for lost time
when madness rules with noise and might.
Always inside, better to be out of sight.
Courage, come out, come out.
O loving Greatness
lead us by little steps out of anger and sadness.
My spirit soars to see the boys playing,
the little one humming.
My heart for a while, is singing.
There are days, to work extra hard to keep my spirits up. Only I can see and hear my children, something must be up. Ignorance is out of the question, Ignorance cannot bring bliss, for when they are silent, something must be amiss.
There are days, like a boat in the ocean, up and down, this way and that, any turn. Like a stock market graph my spirit and mind follows. My mind’s eye sees, and knows where the waters are rough. Stay the course it's within my control, for my children, I must keep a hold, they are my hearts and my balm, humour, tolerance and prayer, keep me calm.
I strive for balance, and objectivity hope for patience and sensitivity. There is a disturbance in their earth, but we are still finding our way to a berth.
Where is that silver lining? We have been patient. Peace will come, I keep singing. There are days when I feel ancient.
The immature man creates drama around ordinary events.
The narcissistic man holds us hostage. When will it blow?
The fearful man cuts off ties.
Discipline is his noble motto, justified and righteous
Intimidation is the game,
for the good of the future.
To what end?
To be unstable, unforgiving, repressed, intolerant, impatient.
Terror he fills, fear he instills,
He claims for love sake.
Where’s the love, where’s the affection,
no one feels safe.
So much noise, so much hurt
Too much heartache.
No sensitivities only temper.
When will it blow?
The narcissistic man cannot hear.
The immature man cannot see.
He snickers at innocence.
Gentleness is alien to him.
This is the brim.
(HA – Sep 2008)
Out of darkness, we will climb one step and a time…. .
I walked once with shoulders down
My head up in the haze.
My thoughts not on home
but on work, in hollow cheer.
Burdened yet unfazed
I hid there,
it was easier.
I looked at my children.
I saw.
The pain,
it started to seep in.
They too hid
in school and at home.
I prayed for the cure,
that pain would go away.
How much more to endure?
The stress,
instead it grew, more not less,
desperation and despair.
When would change come?
Pain then anger.
Anger to energy, it moved me.
Why did I linger?
The silence from within,
overflowed.
My head felt, my heart heard,
all that was hidden.
Why did we abide?
Hope, compassion…
don’t be foolish, think of them,
put it aside.
I will be brave,
I will not fear,
Grant me strength
to persevere.
Be my child, be happy. Be at peace, be spontaneous. Be bold, try it, speak, take a chance. See with eyes, hear with ears ever clear. Be open to wonders around us. Open minds, trusting hearts, always dear. Believe in you. Say yes I can! Be merry. Always mine.
I am glad I made friends. Where I stood, that was not meant to be. But I am glad I changed that to be else you would not be my friends.
I am not sad to have left, a place so suppressed. A collar must be stiff , a short chair made tall, air so musty, no substance, a second home, I did call.
Now I know what I did not see what I did not do. See through the curtain of charade stiff and starched, give it a stab, watch it crack At the start nothing was there, But an empty shell.
Now I see. Now I feel. Now I think. I am free.
I laugh out loud Now I am who I am
Should have walked away sooner Caught in a spell made by a shell.
- (written Dec 2006)
The moral of the story - don't offer your loyalty to anyone til they have earned it.
A dog is barking,
