A Life to Create

23/07/2014

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A Life to Create

How hard can it be
to relax and let go
to say that’s enough
there’s nothing to prove
or put on show?

There is a time to push
to strive for more
but also a time to stop
to say No
I’m feeling too raw

To soften doesn’t equate to being weak
it can remove inner barriers
open your mind
help you find answers that you seek

Being hard doesn’t equate
to always being strong
There’s no specific line
No definitive right or wrong

So much in this life
we are told that we need
but what is your soul crying out for?
On what does it feed?

Money
Results
Work done at high speed
Or is it just
that your soul
needs you to see
the self laid open
Flying free?

But in this life
many don’t seem to care
so how can you trust
open up
share?

Where do you sit
What could you shift
What do you want to change
and within what range
between the one side of hard
and the other of soft
where you don’t have to fear
being scoffed

What step can you take
to give yourself a break
to let go of anger
of judgement
of self hate?

Which could lead
to a chance
to begin again
where self-acceptance
is no longer in vain

For new decisions to make
A life chosen
A life you can create.

Words © June 2014 Michelle Payne
Picture found circulating freely online


Fragments

15/01/2014

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what shall i tell a child if she asks me what is life?
will i recount the pain and hurt and focus on the strife?
or shall i paint a picture of the beauty that is found
in sailing ships and chocolate chips and bugs beneath the ground?

i’d like to think i’d give her hope of all that is to come
but if she reads some poems of mine, her hope shall be undone
i cannot bear to think that i may dim a child’s eyes
present to her a world of just confusion, pain, and lies

for if i am to tell her early on of mountain streams
and help her build the pillars that will hold up all her dreams
i’d paint the birds that fill the trees with beauty and with song
a sanctuary in her mind to help when things go wrong

and in that place in her mind’s eye the flowers would grow free
in meadows under blue skies by the mighty loving sea
she’d have a place for comfort, have a place to be alone
amidst tomorrow’s challenges, no matter how she’s grown

i pray to learn my lessons from the children whom i meet
i dream of sowing sunshine on a crowded city street
i pray my words shall never hurt the child here inside
i pray that never shall i fear the child in me has died

i must reject some words of mine if i’m to feel i’m free
embracing hope, i must hold on to how good life can be
that i may treat the children with respect that they deserve
for i shan’t live for self alone–i give my life to serve

tdw
(Courtesy of Living Life Fully)


Wet Pants

19/06/2013

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Compassion and wet pants!

Come with me to a third grade classroom….. There is a nine-year-old boy sitting at his desk and all of a sudden, there is a puddle between his feet and the front of his pants are wet. He thinks his heart is going to stop because he cannot possibly imagine how this has happened. It’s never happened before, and he knows that when the boys find out he will never hear the end of it. When the girls find out, they’ll never speak to him again as long as he lives….The boy believes his heart is going to stop; he puts his head down and prays this prayer, “Dear God, this is an emergency! I need help now! Five minutes from now I am dead meat.”

He looks up from his prayer and here comes the teacher with a look in her eyes that says he has been discovered.

As the teacher is walking toward him, a classmate named Susie is carrying a goldfish bowl that is filled with water. Susie trips in front of the teacher and inexplicably dumps the bowl of water in the boy’s lap.

The boy pretends to be angry, but all the while is saying to himself, “Thank you, Lord! Thank you.”

Now all of a sudden, instead of being the object of ridicule, the boy is the object of compassion. The teacher rushes him downstairs and gives him gym shorts to put on while his pants dry out. All the other children are on their hands and knees cleaning up around his desk. The compassion is wonderful. But as life would have it, the ridicule that would have been his has been transferred to someone else – Susie…

She tries to help, but they tell her to get out. You’ve done enough, you klutz!”

Finally, at the end of the day as they are waiting for the bus, the boy walks over to Susie and whispers, “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Susie whispers back, “I wet my pants once too…”

~~ Unknown ~~


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