One door closes
Another door opens
You go in but you but
You
Can't get out

I've been there
I am still here
So is my daughter
So is Mark Twain
So are all I have loved
All whom have loved me
With God all things are\
Possible
When
One door closes
Another door opens

Only love in it's fullness...
Can caste out the grievances
Of the past; the anxieties about
The future.  All emptiness is prey
To unhappiness.  What can stop it?
Yet though we may know this-what
Good is this knowing?  Can we make
Love up; manufacture it; call it into
Being; find it in some desert place?
The seed of its being must already
Be in us,  The seed planted by our
Father and we must cherish  it as a
Gift given to the soil of  our soul.
Giving thanks for sun and rain in
Their proper measure; praying that
We are given the time to wait for
The ripening grain to be harvested in
The fullness of love. This tillage is our
Work from which we are given peace to
Rest.  To work and to rest  in faith and
In Hope we go forth learning patience
In the the contemplation of the now and
Rejoicing in the  fullness of the time
To come is our   life fearless= full of love.



ed




To  Love

Never never forever
But for a little while
now  we do love, can
Love and that is all our
Forever is and what for
I would give every other
Forever for. To now love
You a little more.  Forever
Is only how long I will miss
you when you are far away.

For my daughter
I Love you

Starting from the beginning there
Where we knew not with every step
We do make the map; and of these
Many maps do our story tell.  What
What then should we make of it?
Something mythic and beautiful-
Universal but particular-the legend.
Disguised in the every today. From
The unknowing to the Unknown-
Something wonderful to behold.
         dvd...

There is this about famous people: we grow up
And it seems we have heard of them before
It is the same with love only more so as it seems
You have known Her always.  Of all that is
Famous She is the one without compare and
is greatest of all.  So it is woe extreme to lose
Her -to think she is gone forevef.  Death is sweet
To  living without hope-,with hope dying.  That
She know It is for her honor  I would gladly die
than live ever without Her-If Hope of Her is-
Is not to be is to be forever disappointed

Only if you can forget  who you are can
You live forever.  Knowing who you are
Is to know your inevitable mortality.So
Would you rather live forever or know
Who you are?  There is no easy answer
Who has not asked to live a little longer.
But it says in scripture: There shall be no re-
membrance of things past- (or yet to come)  
To let go of all you have known and love!
Out out brief candle- dying forever is  not a
Life as we would like it.  We say Jesus lives
Is he among us and does  He know He will
Be crucified or is He yet an immortal unknown
Perhaps a Christmas baby born to a stranger on
on this day like we all  once were? To Life; To...-

With a nod to Mark Twain who gave us "The Mysterious
Stranger"and a wonderful life.

The perfection of every love
Is never truly known until it's
Passing...And in the shadows
Of the past are the beginning of
Tomorrow-are our bower where
All our labors are  offered up as
as  the not articulate prayers of
The untutored child telling  of his
Wish that love be known at last
For then is our life at an end but
Why should knowing be to die?