KNOWLEDGE

Blades Of Grass

We all are simply blades of grass;
growing in the meadows of light;
basking in sunshine of history past;
fading into the night;

All drinking in life from pouring rain;
basking in magnificent beauty;
dying every Winter; to live again.
sensing love as our duty.

In Spring,

Success Cries

Every thought, that we have, is energy;
tho, much of it, out of control;
both success, and failure, are meant to be;
to enhance the growth of the soul.

Each time, anyone laughs or cries;
a change occurs, within;
somehow a particle of evil dies;
allowing, that healing

The Will Of Perfection

Who makes the myriad of choices we make;
what forces are standing behind;
who must we blame for our every mistake;
are we somehow, to evil, inclined?

As a baby, we’re simply given no choice;
but, the choice to laugh or cry;
for a season,

Love Is The Answer

We’re often told that love is the answer;
a remark we’ve grown tired of hearing;
it can’t always prevent accidents or cancer;
even for most ardent God fearing.

Love is the answer; to preventing war;
let God’s love, rain down from above;

A Paradox Called Education

Time has ushered in a paradox of education;
everyone wants knowledge to grow;
but all of it, is spoiled by manipulation;
teaching what others want us to know.

Truth is the knowledge to which all aspire;
only wisdom can take us there;
proliferation of lies; lights

Love Those Who Hate

God commanded that we love our neighbors;
it was an order; not a request;
he wasn’t suggesting or seeking favors;
it was a pass-fail test.

Man answered; the Master, by asking a question:
who might our neighbors be?
God must have winced; at such a

Waiting For Me

My home has become a lonely place;
years of my life were lived here;
love was the energy, beheld in her face;
how could such love disapear?

My home has become a shadow of life;
how could the Master, let it be so;
it became empty; with

Memories

Memories are the realities of yesterday;
lifted aloft, like the morning fog;
destined to return, to another today;
much like a faithful stray dog.

Somehow, memories seem etched in stone;
and, yet; we don’t want them defaced;
we often recall sad memories; when alone;
we’d prefer such