Life, Prose, Poetry, Philosophy, Opinion, Faith |
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... "One day a farmers donkey fell down a well. The animal cried out piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do. Finally, he decided that the animal was old and since the well was non-functional anyway, it wasn't worth trying to retrieve the donkey in the well. It was a big jog so the farmer asked his neighbors to come and help. They all brought over a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the hole. As the donkey realized what was happening with dirt raining down on it, it started to bray horribly. Then to everybody's amazement the donkey suddenly went very quiet. Some had assumed the donkey had decided to die quietly or had been quickly buried. A few hours later the farmer looked down the half filled hole and saw something amazing. The donkey was still standing and with every shovel of dirt that hit it's back the donkey would shake it off and step up on it. This went on for several hours until the donkey's head appeared over the lip of the well. A few shovelfulls later, the donkey quietly stepped up on the surrounding grass and trotted off. The moral of the story is that life will shovel dirt on you, all kinds of dirt. The trick to getting out of the well of trouble is to think clearly, shake the dirt off and then use it to your advantage. Each of our troubles is a stepping stone. We can get out of the well of trouble by stepping up, not stopping, and by not giving up. It's simple, just shake the dirt off and step up. Remember the five simple rules for happiness: Free your heart from hatred. Free your mind from worries. Live simply. Give more. Expect less. Enjoy life and keep shaking the dirt off." |
... The pale passage became revealing as my thoughts came to rest upon the uncontrollable maneuvering anothers mind takes. The surrender to what is uncontrollable, what is the humanity that flows through my veins can be a weak and helpless as an Amoeba or as powerful and strong as the diamond. Complete immersion into life, forces the holder to come to a basic tenant of behavior that nurtures honesty, care, respect, and honour. A tendency exists to place fault upon the external circumstances existence dictate's upon us. Yet with a step forward, an awareness is attained which gifts us with the ability to become more stable and learned. A manipulation of self-thought, imposing deeper understanding. An understanding that no longer see's the external circumstance as the culprit for life's distress anxiety, sadness, and evan finally death. |
... A home must bring joy, and peace, prosperity, abundance. and most of all, and surly not the least, love. Passion for where I am from on this jewel called earth is not merely because of a simple fondness thinking that the land onto which I was born is special, because if not, then the line of logic says that I'm not. How can that be? It can't. For the immediate reality that I am in fact a Newfoundlander penning these words with a roof over my head, shoes on my feet, a heater in the corner, and some food when I woke this morning. By the grace of Gold, I was chosen to live this moment with you. To say the words I've been given in a tone of honesty, faithfulness, and honour given me by God. I am a Newfoundlander. I am a member of a group unique to this earth. I am stock forged in love, kindness, and fight; do what is right. I was forecast this miracle I call my own, with results that call many hearts to follow, and tears of truth to fall. |
... Unadulterated hope. As the jewel brilliance touches dawn, hope which is ours... each day newly found; not lost, or abandoned in darkness righteous in fear. |
... Dishonesty breeds deception. |
... Change your thoughts and you change your world. - Norman Vincent Peale |
... Free Gold Cove covered In fog; thick frost. A North Atlantic freeze. Life in it, be strong Beyond strength most see. Stern look of command; Proud noble faces unseen. In frostbite honour's noble Look fades to gloom. Crawling to a reprieve Forlorn with the bride's hand In thought abandoned To a bitter moment of time. Once more and again Each of all days will end. Dreams invade the stage. Days of gold Warm sunlit California, Cold November Still felt frost here, An Island of history, Love, carnage, and prayer. Atlantic maturity mauls Forcing endless tears No matter life's face, Cost, or fear. |
... And the moments past, The minutes, hours, weeks months, now years. In the stillness I am alone. Left to manage an acute longing love. Forcing myself to breath deep, Breath steady to hold it back, hold back tears. Seeing hearts broken careless; mine coated steel. Transfixed constant passion Understanding consequences rage. Life's recipient of time due gratitude, With grace those held tears allot. Acceptance boldly now mine; Unique as prints to me, one and alone. Heart gripping pain mine to court; Attempting seduction with the life blood running through my veins. Pleading release the chains grow thicker in time gone dim. Humming silence as the past holds hands with the present; Brands forever a burnt scar, lone passage for-come. Wasted and famished eating ground soil the dirt. Feeding from nothing emancipated inert. Yearning satisfaction on a wing and a prayer. Pasting shame lost in credence to nothing there. Spinning soulfully weightless with a force melding metal. A heart far from dead; a print lost to ravaging tear falling time. |