Archive for the poem Category

Do It Anyway

Posted in Christian, Christianity, Philosophy, poem, quote(s), scripture, thoughts with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 9, 2011 by Tim R Wilson

I got this poem off my ex-wife’s Facebook of all things! It is something I have to take to heart for sure and just wanted to share it with you all!

Mother Teresa wrote this poem –

People are often unreasonable,
illogical and self-centered;
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind,
people may accuse you of selfish ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful,
you will win some false friends and true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank,
people may cheat you;
Be honest anyway.

What you spend years building,
someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness,
they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today,
people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have,
and it may never be enough;
Give the world the best you’ve got anyway.

You see, in the final analysis,
it is between you and God;
It was never between you and them anyway.

Read more at Mother Teresa Poem : Do It Anyway

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A Spring Blessing

Posted in holidays, odds and ends, poem, thoughts with tags , , , , , , , on March 22, 2011 by Tim R Wilson

I found this in The Circle of Life by Joyce Rupp and Macrina Wiederkehr and it seemed appropriate on this first day of Spring. Although it snowed here in the mountains yesterday; and again today, and will again tomorrow … This is probably may be my favorite time of year, full of hope … with all things new … with greenery struggling to get through the snow already melting. And the added bonus of my birthday in a couple of days! May this time “work magic in the corners of our darkness.” May you all be blessed!

A Spring Blessing

Blessed are you, spring,

bright season of life awakening.

You gladden our hearts

with opening buds and returning leaves

as you put on your robes of splendor.

Blessed are you, spring.

In you is a life no death can destroy.

As you exchange places with winter

you harbor no unforgiving spirit

for broken tree limbs and frozen buds.

Blessed are you, spring.

You open the closed buds of our despair

as you journey with us

to the flowering places.

Blessed are you, spring.

You invite us to sing songs

to the frozen regions within

and to bless the lessons of winter

as we become your partner in a new dance.

Blessed are you, spring.

Like Jesus, standing before the tomb of Lazarus,

you call to us: “Remove winter’s stone, come out,

there is life here you have not yet tasted.”

Blessed are you, spring,

free gift of the earth.

Without cost we gaze upon your glory.

You are a gospel of good news

for the poor and rich alike.

Blessed are you, spring.

Your renewing rain showers and cathartic storms

nurture the potential that sleeps in Earth’s heart

and in our own earthen hearts.

Blessed are you, spring,

season of resurrection, sacrament of promise.

Like Jesus you rise up out of the darkness,

leaving around you a wake of new life.

Blessed are you, spring,

miracle child of the four seasons.

With your wand of many colors

you work magic in the corners of our darkness.

Blessed are you, spring,

season of hope and renewal.

Wordless poem about all within us

that can never die.

Each year you amaze us

with the mirace of returning life.

Rumi/Unless You Lose Your Own

Posted in God, Photography, poem with tags , , , , , on August 7, 2010 by Tim R Wilson

“Dam the torrent of ecstacy when it runs in flood, so that it won’t bring shame and ruin.

But why should I fear ruin.

Under the ruin waits a royal treasure.

He that is drowned in God wishes to be more drowned.

While his spirit is tossed up and down by the waves of the sea, he asks,

“Is the bottom of the sea more delightful, or the top?

Is the Beloved’s arrow more fascinating, or the shield?”

O heart, if you recognize any difference between joy and sorrow,

these lies will tear you apart.

Although your desire tastes sweet,

doesn’t the Beloved desire you to be desire less?

The life of lovers is in death:

you will not win the Beloved’s heart unless you lose your own.”

Take Time

Posted in God, odds and ends, Philosophy, poem, prayer with tags , , , , , on June 21, 2010 by Tim R Wilson

Take time to think;

It is the source of power.

Take time to read;

It is the foundation of wisdom.

Take time to play;

It is the secret of staying young.

Take time to be quiet;

It is the opportunity to seek God.

Take time to be aware;

It is the opportunity to help others.

Take time to love and be loved;

It is God’s greatest gift.

Take time to laugh;

It is the music of the soul.

Take time to be friendly;

It is the road to happiness.

Take time to dream;

It is what the future is made of.

Take time to pray;

It is the greatest power on earth.

–Author Unknown

Still

Posted in Christianity, God, Photography, poem, prayer, quote(s), religion with tags , , , , , on April 30, 2010 by Tim R Wilson

God Speaks to Man:

I speak to you.

Be still

Know I am God.

I spoke to you when you were born.

Be still

Know I am God.

I spoke to you at your first sight.

Be still

Know I am God.

I spoke to you at your first word.

Be still

Know I am God.

I spoke to you at your first thought.

Be still

Know I am God.

I spoke to you at your first love.

Be still

Know I am God.

I spoke to you at your first song.

Be still

Know I am God.

I speak to you through the grass of the meadows.

Be still

Know I am God.

I speak to you through the trees of the forests.

Be still

Know I am God.

I speak to you through the valleys and the hills.

Be still

Know I am God.

I speak to you through the Holy Mountains.

Be still

Know I am God.

I speak to you through the rain and snow.

Be still

Know I am God.

I speak to you through the waves of the sea.

Be still

Know I am God.

I speak to you through the dew of the morning.

Be still

Know I am God.

I speak to you through the peace of the evening.

Be still

Know I am God.

I speak to you through the splendour of the sun.

Be still

Know I am God.

I speak to you through the brilliant stars.

Be still

Know I am God.

I speak to you through the storm and the clouds.

Be still

Know I am God.

I speak to you through the thunder and lightening.

Be still

Know I am God.

I speak to you through the mysterious rainbow.

Be still

Know I am God.

I will speak to you when you are alone

Be still

Know I am God.

I will speak to you through the Wisdom of the Ancients.

Be still

Know I am God.

I will speak to you at the end of time.

Be still

Know I am God.

I will speak to you when you have seen my Angels.

Be still

Know I am God.

I will speak to you throughout Eternity.

Be still

Know I am God.

I speak to you.

Be still

Know I am God.

god speaks to man – essene gospel of peace

St. Patrick’s Breastplate

Posted in Christian, Christianity, God, poem, prayer, religion with tags , , , , , , , , , on March 18, 2010 by Tim R Wilson

Being that it was St. Patrick’s Day and all, “St. Patrick’s Breastplate” has to be shared … In its entirety …

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through the belief in the threeness,
Through confession of the oneness
Of the Creator of Creation. I arise today
Through the strength of Christ’s birth with his baptism,
Through the strength of his crucifixion with his burial,
Through the strength of his resurrection with his ascension,
Through the strength of his descent for the judgment of Doom. I arise today
Through the strength of the love of Cherubim,
In obedience of angels,
In the service of archangels,
In hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In prayers of patriarchs,
In predictions of prophets,
In preaching of apostles,
In faith of confessors,
In innocence of holy virgins,
In deeds of righteous men. I arise today
Through the strength of heaven:
Light of sun,
Radiance of moon,
Splendor of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of wind,
Depth of sea,
Stability of earth,
Firmness of rock. I arise today
Through God’s strength to pilot me:
God’s might to uphold me,
God’s wisdom to guide me,
God’s eye to look before me,
God’s ear to hear me,
God’s word to speak for me,
God’s hand to guard me,
God’s way to lie before me,
God’s shield to protect me,
God’s host to save me
From snares of devils,
From temptations of vices,
From everyone who shall wish me ill,
Afar and anear,
Alone and in multitude. I summon today all these powers between me and those evils,
Against every cruel merciless power that may oppose my body and soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of pagandom
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,
Against every knowledge that corrupts man’s body and soul. C hrist to shield me today
Against poison, against burning,
Against drowning, against wounding,
So that there may come to me abundance of reward.
Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me. I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the threeness,
Through confession of the oneness,
Of the Creator of Creation.

On the Pulse of Morning

Posted in Philosophy, poem with tags , , , on March 16, 2010 by Tim R Wilson

ON THE PULSE OF MORNING Maya Angelou

A Rock, A River, A Tree

Hosts to species long since departed,

Marked the mastodon.

The dinosaur, who left dry tokens

Of their sojourn here

On our planet floor,

Any broad alarm of their hastening doom

Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages.


But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,

Come, you may stand upon my

Back and face your distant destiny,

But seek no haven in my shadow.

I will give you no more hiding place down here.


You, created only a little lower than

The angels, have crouched too long in

The bruising darkness,

Have lain too long

Face down in ignorance.

Your mouths spilling words

Armed for slaughter.

The Rock cries out today, you may stand on me,

But do not hide your face.


Across the wall of the world,

A River sings a beautiful song,

Come rest here by my side.


Each of you a bordered country,

Delicate and strangely made proud,

Yet thrusting perpetually under siege.

Your armed struggles for profit

Have left collars of waste upon

My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.

Yet, today I call you to my riverside,

If you will study war no more. Come,

Clad in peace and I will sing the songs

The Creator gave to me when I and the

Tree and the stone were one.

Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your

Brow and when you yet knew you still

Knew nothing.

The River sings and sings on.


There is a true yearning to respond to

The singing River and the wise Rock.

So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew

The African and Native American, the Sioux,

The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek

The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,

The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,

The privileged, the homeless, the Teacher.

They hear. They all hear

The speaking of the Tree.

Today, the first and last of every Tree

Speaks to humankind. Come to me, here beside the River.

Plant yourself beside me, here beside the River.


Each of you, descendant of some passed

On traveller, has been paid for.

You, who gave me my first name, you

Pawnee, Apache and Seneca, you

Cherokee Nation, who rested with me, then

Forced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of

Other seekers–desperate for gain,

Starving for gold.

You, the Turk, the Swede, the German, the Scot

You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought

Sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare

Praying for a dream.

Here, root yourselves beside me.

I am the Tree planted by the River,

Which will not be moved.


I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree

I am yours–your Passages have been paid.

Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need

For this bright morning dawning for you.

History, despite its wrenching pain,

Cannot be unlived, and if faced

With courage, need not be lived again.


Lift up your eyes upon

The day breaking for you.

Give birth again

To the dream.


Women, children, men,

Take it into the palms of your hands.

Mold it into the shape of your most

Private need. Sculpt it into

The image of your most public self.

Lift up your hearts

Each new hour holds new chances

For new beginnings.

Do not be wedded forever

To fear, yoked eternally

To brutishness.


The horizon leans forward,

Offering you space to place new steps of change.

Here, on the pulse of this fine day

You may have the courage

To look up and out upon me, the

Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.

No less to Midas than the mendicant.

No less to you now than the mastodon then.


Here on the pulse of this new day

You may have the grace to look up and out

And into your sister’s eyes, into

Your brother’s face, your country

And say simply

Very simply

With hope

Good morning