Eternal Solitude I, ~CordieB

In the course of one’s lifetime

what will one learn?

will one learn of hatred?

what bridges will one burn?

~~~

In the course of one’s lifetime

in the blink of an eye

will one find the answers

to the who, what and why?

~~~

In the course of one’s lifetime

what will one sing?

will one sing a love song?

what gifts will one bring?

~~~

In the course of one’s lifetime

what crafts will one master?

what gods will one serve…

in the mists of disaster?

~~~

In the course of one’s lifetime

What will one fulfill

Will one’s cup flow over

what bridges will one build?

~~~

In the course of one’s lifetime

What heights will one climb?

How far  will one fall?

In the depths of sublime?

~~~

In the course of a lifetime

what will one foresee

when one takes his last breath…

what will one’s thoughts be?

~CordieB.

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Opening lines from Gregory David Robert’s Shantaram:

“It took me a long time and most of the world to learn what I know about love and fate and the choices we make, but the heart of it came to me in an instant, while I was chained to a wall and being tortured. I realized, somehow, through the screaming in my mind, that even in that shackled, bloody helplessness, I was still free: free to hate the men who were torturing me, or to forgive them. It doesn’t sound like much, I know. But in the flinch and bite of the chain, when its all you have got, that freedom is a universe of possibility. And the choice you make, between hating and forgiving,can become the story of your life.”

Quote for the Day:  You can be so heavenly bound until you are no earthly good – Dr. Oscar Lane

“In the Course of One’s Life Time ” inspired by  Simply Snicker’s Poetry Prompt.  This weeks words were, climb, course, and craft.  Let us keep Linda and the Midwest, USA, in our prayers, as she and her community have endured natural disasters due to flooding this week.

She gazed upon his deep brown eyes
Glaized with love and fear; confused yet wise
she knew he loved her desperately . . . .
he could not risk her flying free

She knew she loved him through all fate
with him she’d found her mirrored mate
but with his love came blind control
Though undeliberate, such control shackled her soul

She knew her love was full and true
but there were other things she also knew . . .
she knew she could not be contained
into the life for which he’d planned

She knew he had insecurities
that would never allow her to simply be
he’d always possess the fear of flight
of her souring endlessly into the night

But since her love was true and tried
she eased his fears; stayed by his side
dealt with his subtle controls of will
convinced his way was better still

In time she lost desire to feel . . .

the warmth of the glowing sun
the coolness of the rain upon
her gentle being which she’d dreamed of
she’d traded peace of mind for love . . .

but still the longing in her eyes
revealed a tale of silent cries
this only hightend his insecurites
gave way to anger; raged immaturities
he’d often, confused, demand her to leave
but she’d hold to her sweet reprieve . . .

then one blessed day so crystal clear
the god’s of earth’s great atmosphere
gave strength to follow the raged command
thus she left the home of her beloved man
which she had humorously dubbed the promise land

though she knew his words were those of fear
the god’s gave her insight true and clear
that though her love was tried and true
living that life again; she she could not do

she needed the ability to shed her tears
to speak or write her words without the fears
of disillusioned, often drunken anger
for which she feared might trigger danger

But still her love so pure remained
Yet her peace of mind was hence regained
she knew she really loved this man
but feared rejection and anger once again . . .

She bathed in sweet tranquilities
she felt she finally could breath
she missed his presense even so . . .
Yet there was a stranger she had to get to know

She needed to get to know herself
not live her life for someone else
she needed to live her own desires
find out what really sparked her fires

Again, her love was tried and true
but being alone was something she needed to do
she’d always ran from man to man
if one doesn’t work out; another one can
was often her motto for many years
so in fact she had never faced her inner fears
thus she found herself crying the same sad tears

She felt if she simply returned for love
the same problems would arise in time thereof
for although she loved him beyond compare
she knew she’d lost a part of self somewhere . . .

Ah yes! she loved him desperately
and felt there love was meant to be
but with raw emotions and fear intertwined
she risked loosing his love to find her mind

To be continued. . . .

~By CordieB

The Rose that Grew From Concrete

Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete?
Proving nature’s law is wrong it learned to walk with out having feet.
Funny it seems, but by keeping its dreams, it learned to breathe fresh air.
Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else ever cared.
~Tupak Shakur

Photo Courtesy of Freebird and is licensed under the Creative Commons License.

The Rosebud

It is only a tiny rosebud,
A flower of God’s design;
But I cannot unfold the petals
With these clumsy hands of mine.

The secret of unfolding flowers
Is not known to such as I.
GOD opens this flower so sweetly,
Then in my hands they die.

If I cannot unfold a rosebud,
This flower of God’s design,
Then how can I have the wisdom
To unfold this life of mine?

So I’ll trust in Him for leading
Each moment of my day.
I will look to him for His guidance
Each step of the way.

The pathway that lies before me,
only my Heavenly Father knows.
so trust Him to unfold the moments,
Just as He unfolds the rose.

Let Go and Let God Unfold
~(Author Unknown)

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“You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses.” -
– Ziggy

Where flowers bloom so does hope.
- Lady Bird Johnson, Public Roads: Where Flowers Bloom

At dawn I asked the lotus,
‘What is the meaning of life?’
Slowly she opened her hand
with nothing in it.
- Debra Woolard Bender, Paper Lanterns

There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud
was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
- Anais Nin

Photo courtesy of catdancing and is licensed under the Creative Commons

Tree pathway..

Approaching a tree we approach a sacred being who can teach us about love and about endless giving. She is one of millions of beings who provide our air, our homes, our fuel, our books. Working with the spirit of the tree can bring us renewed energy, powerful inspiration, deep communion.

~Druid Tree Lore, Ovate Grade lecture

A Rose

A lovely rose with petals soft
A scent so sweet and light
So beautiful a flower
With colors shining bright.
But something not so savory
About the fragrant rose -
The thorns, so sharp upon the stem,
That sharpen as it grows.
Yet still lovely is the flower
Despite the thorns that prick
Just as life and love are sweet
They too have thorns that stick.
But do not fear to live or love,
Life’s not exempt from pain -
So pick a rose, you may get hurt,
But you will also gain!

~Elizabeth

The Tree

“How can I do what you say,” asked the child, “and still be me?”

“Look at me,” said the tree. “I bend in the wind, droop in the rain. Yet I always remain myself, a tree.”

“Look at me,” said the man. “I can’t change.”

“Look at me,” said the tree. “I change every season from green to brown to green again, from bud to flower to fallen leaf. Yet I always remain myself, a tree.”

“I can’t love anymore,” said the woman. “With my love, I have given away all that I am.”

“Look at me,” said the tree. “There are robins in my branches, owls in my trunk, moss and ladybugs living on my bark. They may take what I have, but not what I am.”

Whether we know it or not, we are like the tree. Only our pride hangs on to a false sense of self, wanting to keep everything, refusing to follow advice or spiritual direction.

What we do doesn’t matter; how we do it is what counts. Change and growth is as natural as the sun coming up every morning and the setting of it every night. Go with what is inside you and listen to what your heart tells you. Why not if even for just today, reach out once more to a place that exists outside yourself without fear or judgment for yourself or from others . . . just once more.

We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light. – Plato

Photo courtesy of ZR and is licensed under the Creative Commons License

The Rose

Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed
Some say love, it is a hunger
An endless aching need
I say love, it is a flower
And you, its only seed

It’s the heart, afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance
It’s the dream, afraid of waking
That never takes the chance
It’s the one who won’t be taken
Who cannot seem to give
And the soul, afraid of dying
That never learns to live

When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long
And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong
Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snows
Lies the seed
That with the sun’s love, in the spring
Becomes the rose

Photo Courtesy of CordieB.  Share as you like.

In the flower shop

The woman was strolling through a shopping mall when she noticed a poster announcing a new flower shop. When she went in, she got a shock; she saw no vases, no arrangements, and it was God in person who stood behind the counter.

“You can ask for whatever you want,” said God.

“I want to be happy. I want peace, money, the capacity to be understood. I want to go to heaven when I die. And I want all this to be granted to my friends too.”

God opened a few pots that were on the shelf behind him, removed some grains from inside, and handed them to the woman.

“Here you have the seeds,” He said. “Begin to plant them, because here we don’t sell the fruits.”
~Paulo Coelho, A Warrior of the Light