Wisdom from the Journey

    Each day whether hectic or mundane
    is a gift to shape and meld us
    into whom we are to become.

    If we could, we would choose days of sunshine
    surrounded by lush, green rolling hills
    ending at the seashore
    with glorious white sandy beaches.
    We would laugh and frolic
    with not a care in the world.

    But we have lessons to learn
    and journeys to complete.

    Many days will be filled with clouds of uncertainty.
    The perpetual "Why me questions?" asked and unanswered.
    "Will the monsoons ever cease?"
    "Will the sun ever cut through the dense fog?"

    Then unannounced, the gloom will fade as if never there.
    The sun will shine
    to bring again her warming peace.
    A smile will cross the lips.
    The stormy days but recent memories.

    But changed we will be
    by the wisdom from the journey.

Comments: This poem speaks to many of the same thoughts expressed in the earlier poem The Canyon. Our greatest lessons are often learned from the monsoon days.


"A person is a person through other persons,"
says an old African idiom.
What a foreign concept to so many self-assertive,
Self-directed Americans.
Instead, many pridefully proclaim,
"I am strong! I depend on no one!"
Don't these sad protestations tell much?
Are not the interactions, the sharing our definers?
Isn't understanding the sense of community over self-serving
that evolves us?
Making each the greater for it.

Comments: To this biased observer of American Society a movement toward the center of the deeper meaning of this African idiom could do much to heal us.

.......Sweet Life

Oh Sweet Life, how quickly you pass.
The young child wishes to grow up.
The old wish for the vigor of youth.
The years in between,
blips and flashes of memory

Oh Sweet Life, what imprints will I leave?
Will they be but invisible marks left in the running river?
Or will they momentarily appear as barefoot shapes in the sand
soon to be washed away by the incoming tide?
Or perhaps those who follow will see them
as childlike impressions left in soft cement,
now hardened into temporary permanence.

Oh Sweet Life, where will I go when I depart?
Will I disappear into the cosmos,
once energy but now extinct?
Or will I continue but in another form and state
as promised by the great wisdom teachers?
Can the billions be wrong?
I surely hope not.

Oh Sweet Life, how I love you.
Even when you are fickle,
I only want to taste more.
Some brush you aside like a discarded lover,
wanting no more -- anxious to leave.
Oh Sweet Life, may that never be.
May you always be my beloved bride
with whom I fell in love those many years ago
Comments: Do you ever have conversation with yourself about eternal questions? I find that I do, especially as I have become older. Above is a recent one-way conversation I had with my dear friend, Life.


.........I am but dust,
.........Stardust from the heavens.
.........I inhale and exhale
.........What was before,
.........Breathing history with every breath.
.........Someday, others will breathe my atoms
.........For we are part of what was
.........And what will become.
.........We were, are, and will be
.........Part of the Cosmos.
.........Like our Creator.
.........We are eternal

Comments: A slightly different view of eternal life...seriously, based upon the theory that matter does not disappear and on articles written by researchers, there is a good chance that at least one or more atoms in your body belonged to each of the following: Jesus, Buddha, and Mohammed.

A Glance Backwards
Life is filled with constant intertwining
for seldom do we walk alone.
Paths cross and separate    
in this earthly finite time.
From each, we learn and grow.
Sometimes the strolls are special   
bringing smiles to the face   
while leaving imprints upon the soul.
These we fondly remember   
when glancing back over time.
Comments: Though this poem was written to a dear friend, it speaks to the interconnectivity of the lives that touch us in this journey.  We all have  "the special ones" that when looking back bring a smile to the face.

Where Have All the Bubbles Gone?
I remember youth and the bubble bottle
.....when mere dipping the wand into the soapy liquid
.....followed by a gentle breath
.....created mystical globes.

Each, a world unto itself,
.....possessed rainbow hues
.....as pure simplicity floated heavenward.

I long for the mystery I felt
.....as the bubbles rose,
.....eventually popping as if never there.
Comments: This poem was drafted on the church bulletin as the minister spoke of faith and the mystical. Yes, read beyond the mere joy of this childhood experience. (The picture to the left is from http://www.dynotech.com, an educational software company.)

The Amazing

“Dreams” and “hopes,”
......are they not life’s blood?

When they cease to flow,
.,,...meaningful existence screeches to a halt,
.,,...replaced by aimlessness and mediocrity.

This well-traveled road,  
......littered with “might have beens”
......is wide,
......as its travelers count their finite days.

 When the road less traveled intersects,
......Naysayers cry to the few
......“What if?” and “You’ll be sorry!”
......offered sometimes with good intentions
......and other times due
......to blindness, failures, and loss.

 But those who hear the beat and persevere,
......despite the sweat and tears,
......discover The Amazing –
......there are never enough days
......to devour life.

Comments: When dreams and hopes die, meaningful life often comes to a screeching halt.  We all know those who have met their Waterloo and are simply existing, waiting for the end.  Then, we also know others who despite the constant obstacles and naysayers persevere and move forward.  Those are the ones who seem to have a special lilt to their steps.  There never seems to be enough days for them to do all they want.

A Toss

The diamond sparkled in his palm,
......but he only saw a rock.
Others looked on
......amazed at the brilliant sparkles
......emanating from finely cut facets.
"Surely, he must be blind,"
......they whispered,
......"for he holds a precious jewel
......that offers wealth beyond dreams."
With a careless toss,
......he bid good-bye
......to all the riches
......he unknowingly lost.

Comments: Obviously, an allegory. Individuals often never understand the value of what they have and then toss away, e.g. relationships. Only later do they come to realize what they lost.


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