I am learning
That it is more
Valuable
To accept yourself
Fully
As you are
And be content with
Whatever situation
That comes your way
Standing firm and tall
Through the beaches
And the hurricanes
Than to base
Your own
Acceptance
In the arms of another
Who
With one cut
Word
Or silent pause
Could pull up
Your roots
And drag down the tree
I've found new soil.
Where roots grow deep
And support
Comes not only
To me
But to the ones I love
i am no longer
a graft
on your vine
"Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am full known." - 1 Corinthians 13:12
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Finding our way to Fairyland
“There is such a place as fairyland - but only children can find the way
to it. And they do not know that it is fairyland until they have grown
so old that they forget the way. One bitter day, when they seek it and
cannot find it, they realize what they have lost; and that is the
tragedy of life. On that day the gates of Eden are shut behind them and
the age of gold is over. Henceforth they must dwell in the common light
of common day. Only a few, who remain children at heart, can ever find
that fair, lost path again; and blessed are they above mortals. They,
and only they, can bring us tidings from that dear country where we once
sojourned and from which we must evermore be exiles. The world calls
them its singers and poets and artists and story-tellers; but they are
just people who have never forgotten the way to fairyland.”
― L.M. Montgomery, The Story Girl
― L.M. Montgomery, The Story Girl
Golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath
“Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and
blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one’s side
like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in
seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its
pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps . . . perhaps . . .
love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a
golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath.”
― L.M. Montgomery
― L.M. Montgomery
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