you are mine —everything. i a m empty when you go away: a bird plucked from the wing, a flute subdued by the tongue, a mountain flung from regal heights, a pipedream strangled by the night. return to me my lost song, if e’er my lips may sing o f a better day, when the beauty that you bring shall shine through.
love is of the Father, the Creator of the universe. we are all His children. He requires that we give love like that from Him, unmeasured, to all souls, whom He has treasured. there is but one way to live: find the poor and feed them. putting others first is to honour the Father’s own tough love.
ill is of the devil, the wicked one of the universe. we are all his victims: joy he takes and pain he gives. like a web, his snares...
do not use God’s blessings to steal his praise. when your brokenness is broken by His pow’r, give Him all of the glory. think not that you have saved yourself; His praise belongs to no one else. h u m i l i a t i o n story is yours f o r e v e r m o r e. angels will confess why He by grace, of all things, doth choose you.
my mother is the earth. her bosom swells with my every pulse. she nourishes my soul with her melodies of love. she shelters me against the world, heals up my wounds, dispels the cold. calm and gentle as a dove, she knows what’s fair from foul; passions that convulse she quickly quells. for my birth thank her i.
h e r friendship cascades cool upon my brow all the livelong day, quenching that thirst in me that no other lure could cure. violins, soft strains retrieving, melodies, my spirit cleaving, land me on pacific shores, where time’s sweet reverie fashions from my clay the will to know by what rules her ships stir.
learn t o f a c e y o u r giant: s l a y g o l i a t h with your sacred sling! empty words can strangle nothing of the noble kind. david slew his tens of thousands; you can crush this pompous nuisance. heavy a r m o u r i s but wind that i t s h o s t entangles. let your p e b b l e swing; watch t h i s high–hat d e f i c i e n t t e s t c a c e burn.
when you are overwhelmed by the cross that you are called to bear, i’ll lend you my shoulder till you find your strength again. never let your fears command you, though the storms of life remand you. stand triumphant through your pain: fear will melt and smoulder in your will to dare. shrink away not from the helm: find your yen.
night breathes a q u i e t s o n g, w h o s e m e l o d y p e n e t r a t e s my wake, s e n d i n g my w e a r y soul i n t o l i b e r a t i n g r e s t, from whence bloom my new tomorrows. a l l my joys a n d a l l m y s o r r o w s, m e a s u r e d by my slumberfest, h e l p me d e f i n e my goal, s o t h e p a t h i t a k e b r i n g s l i b e r t y w h e n i l o n...
i remember, bitterly, sweet sins of my youth, when i broke the Golden Rule and kept the bigger half, and measured out in secret things that were not mine to keep while others weep. even the truth i swallowed, without mercy for the hungry, at whose expense i gorged myself.
my truant days were mischief-wise for wayward paths, the devil pulling me beyond the gates of paradise. o how i haunted helpless birds and lizards and buzzing bees, while teachers taunted me ...