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Is this the last time I have to show you I love you?
Could this be my final chance
to look into your face and show you grace?
If it were thus...
wouldn't I want my parting words to be,
"You are a 9,  and not a 3."
If this were my last opportunity to hold your hand,
wouldn't I want to hold it tender and long?

Finite.
The opportunities we have
to love...
to bless...
to forgive...
are finite.

Oh, may I love now,
and not when the hour is late.
And death closes in
to seal our fate.

Man is but a breath.
Our life---
but a whisper in time.

May I seize every opportunity,
every moment,
To stop.
To slow down.
To listen.
To love.
As if it were the last time.
To the herdsman counting his flock in the moonlight
The plowman repairing his tractor by lantern- light
The wood splitter , the fence builder , framer and rail tender
Architects of frozen December morns
Unsung engineers , freight worker and brakemen
'Twould be a privilege indeed to sup cold beer with the countries heroes , privy to stories of hardship and raw weather days endured by these American patriots
Iron tooled with steel , the churning grist mill , diesel engine roar ,
black earth turned anew , billowing steam settled over valley floors
Masters of metal , brake and die , machine and anvil
The crack of the peen long before sunrise
'Tis the bailiwick of farmer and tradesman* ..
Copyright October 21 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
The youth
carry the burden of school.
Will I pass or will I fail?

Fathers
carry the burden of work,
money, and sleep deprivation.

Mothers
carry the burden of the juggling act
of the super woman.

Old folks
carry the burden of a body
that no longer works for them.

And all---and all---
carry the burden of never
being good enough .

Burdens.
Backpacks.
"Come to Me," calls the
Bearer of all burdens.
"I will give you rest.
Give your heavy burden to Me,
and exchange it for the lighter load,
which I give to thee."

She lets the backpack fall from her shoulders.
And walks on.
Carrying a lighter one.
Her striving is done.
A journey toward rest
has begun.
Inspired by Matthew 11:28-30, Holy Bible.
When my faith was as small as a mustard seed,
God was still my knight in shining armor,
Protecting me from this society that can be cruel.

When I was living in misery,
I slammed the door on the almighty’s face,
But he still loved me with all his heart and soul.

He guided me through the obstacles of life,
Making sure that I was safe from this imperfect world,
Setting a course to a destined path which led to happiness.

Deep inside, God always lived within me,
But I was lost on the trail of life,
And the lord helped me find the light.

God will always be my hero and savior,
And I will try not to turn my back on him again,
Praying every day for his love and courage.
 Sep 2016 showyoulove
ryn
My teacher once asked
a short simple question.
She had asked,
"What do you want to be?"
Raised arms answered her query.
Open palms each belonging to excitable children.

Wide little eyes looked up at her.
Hands began to flail in the air...
Ever so hopeful of being chosen.
So that they could voice their aspirations.
So that they could begin to share.

One by one,
they each was given the opportunity.
Turn by turn,
boastful were some
while others spoke quiet and shyly.

Then the teacher stopped short.
Not before expressing her delight.
She was in awe of such young minds...
Having had such great wings
to eventually take flight.

Then she explained...
What she had initially meant.
Confused looks all around including me.
She rephrased the question,
"What kind of person...
Do you want to be?"


There was silence.
No arms shot up to meet the subject.
I don't recall having raised mine,
but I remember telling the teacher...
An answer (I was confident), she wouldn't expect.

I stood at my desk,
proud and tall...
And told the teacher
that I wished to be a person...
Well loved by all.

She smiled and I did too.
I felt it was a good answer.
She nodded to signal for me to take my seat again.
She paused before speaking,
and not a moment later.

She said,
"That would be nice.
To be loved by all.
But that's close to impossible.
A big wish for someone so small."


I had heard her words clearly...
However I didn't understand.
My brows furrowed...
And I was deep in thought...
Still I couldn't comprehend.

28 years later...
Here I sit,
looking back to that time in the past.
How time flies...
It simply ticked away...
All too fast.

Till just then I was still that boy...
Who tried hard to please.
I wanted to prove that it wasn't impossible.
You can be loved by everyone,
and you can do it with ease.

But now I have learnt.
Now I have found meaning
and understanding in my teacher's wisdom.
It took me a while but...
I know now...
That wishes and reality don't work in tandem.

You can choose to care and love,
everyone you see.
But to expect everyone to love you the same...
Is sheer
impossibility.
.
You can't please everyone in life.
When you work around people, you're bound to step on some toes...
Whether intentionally or not.

Dedicated to my primary school teacher
and all the teachers out there. A tad early but...
Happy Teachers Day.
.
give me, o do give me
any piece of the earth
let me show you
there's no dearth
of wisps of smoke
and peals of laughter
they quote with gleaming eyes
and are courted everywhere
there's no scarcity of shared experiences
in any measure or hue
and that's always true
i should be garlanded
i should be serenaded
wherever my fancy takes me
for in very truth is say to you
any which way in the world
is a corner of my room
thus see me weep in travail
but always to no avail
for the elite of the world
who would speak for us
though we have mouths to speak and things to say
are forever seeking ways to tell us we're different
but give me, o give me, any piece of this earth
and i shall be home in harmony with the breath of life
never again to be alienated by false councils
my heart will sprout into luxuriant shrubs
that dance each break of day
to songs of the universe
i yearn to be a citizen of the world, roaming free
I once plowed a field new
In proper time for rain and dew
I planted it in fertile loam
A soft heart that was my own

I planted seed, and it was Thine
I will wait for Harvest Time


The sun, it came up with each dawn
And those seeds grew up so strong
The rain, it came to quench the soil
So the seedlings wouldn't spoil

Chorus

We nourished wheat,
plucked up the weeds
For we'd many mouths to feed
A plentiful crop, t'was lush and green
The greatest harvest ever seen!

Chorus

When the time was ripe to reap
We worked so hard we could not sleep
We set about to thresh our wares
Separating wheat from tares

Chorus

Threshing done, we ground our grain
In great hardship, blinding pain
But in the end, it can be said
That 8 billion souls were fed!

Chorus

Tell me, friend, how grows your field?
When it's reaped, what will it yield?
Will it be good wheat or briars
To be thrown into the fires?

Chorus


SoulSurvivor
(C) 4/17/2006
Rewritten 9/15/2015
Ecclesiastes 3:2

To everything, turn, turn, turn
There is a season, turn, turn, turn
And a time for every
purpose under heaven.
"Turn, Turn, Turn"
The Birds

-
 Sep 2016 showyoulove
Melissa S
I am tired of always
go, going, going
and do, doing, doing
There needs to be Less Doing
and More Being

I move from one task to the next
to save up some small allotted time
For What?
More Tasks?
Not anymore
   Being Present
and
Being Loved
These are things that matter!!
I have started to learn that the most valuable
thing we as human's have is TIME
  I will be ****** if I will be spending
my time doing these stupid tasks.  
I will be spending my time
Being
with the most important people to me
My son, My family and My friends
Time spent with them is all that matters
Who really cares if there are dishes in the sink
or if the front porch needs sweeping
Not me
Not now
Less Doing
More Being

That will be me from now on!!!
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