Endless night

Stars are lightning up my way

I'm running, running far away

Away from hate and tears and lies

Away from wars and children's cries

Lord, oh, Lord why don't you hear?

Your peoples blood and silent fear

These days when darkness takes control

A horrow lies within my soul

After darkness, maybe light?

I'm praying, Lord, please say I'm right

Where to miss?? by Fairytale Belle ♥♡ on Polyvore.com

Sigh

Once again stumbling over a peaceful song which brings tears, hope and tranquility.

Joshua Radin - paperweight

The white man's burden

The white man's burden

by Rudyard Kipling

Take up the White Man's burden--

Send forth the best ye breed--

Go, bind your sons to exile

To serve your captives' need;

To wait, in heavy harness,

On fluttered folk and wild--

Your new-caught sullen peoples,

Half devil and half child.

Take up the White Man's burden--

In patience to abide,

To veil the threat of terror

And check the show of pride;

By open speech and simple,

An hundred times made plain,

To seek another's profit

And work another's gain.

Take up the White Man's burden--

The savage wars of peace--

Fill full the mouth of Famine,

And bid the sickness cease;

And when your goal is nearest

(The end for others sought)

Watch sloth and heathen folly

Bring all your hope to nought.

Take up the White Man's burden--

No iron rule of kings,

But toil of serf and sweeper--

The tale of common things.

The ports ye shall not enter,

The roads ye shall not tread,

Go, make them with your living

And mark them with your dead.

Take up the White Man's burden,

And reap his old reward--

The blame of those ye better

The hate of those ye guard--

The cry of hosts ye humour

(Ah, slowly!) toward the light:--

"Why brought ye us from bondage,

Our loved Egyptian night?"

Take up the White Man's burden--

Ye dare not stoop to less--

Nor call too loud on Freedom

To cloak your weariness.

By all ye will or whisper,

By all ye leave or do,

The silent sullen peoples

Shall weigh your God and you.

Take up the White Man's burden!

Have done with childish days--

The lightly-proffered laurel,

The easy ungrudged praise:

Comes now, to search your manhood

Through all the thankless years,

Cold, edged with dear-bought wisdom,

The judgment of your peers.

Ode to...

William Ernest Henley. 1849-1903.

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Heartsongs

I would like to donate today's post to a very special little guy who managed to touch more hearts then he himself is aware of in the little time he had on earth.

Mattie Stepanek was born with an illness called Dysautonomic Mitochondrial Myopathy which interrupts automatic body functions and is a terminal illness at an early age. Mattie on the other hand was strong in spirit and wouldn't give up that easily and except that death was upon him. He didn't wait around for it, he made the most out of the time he had and he died at the age of 14. In his 14 short years he published seven books of his own poems; he met and became close friends with a number of great ppl including Oprah Winfrey, Jimmy Carter and Larry King. What made Mattie so special they say is that he knew that every day was a gift and he knew he was living on borrowed time and that his opportunity to make a difference was this very moment, because he might not get the chance tomorrow. And he sure did. His motto was: Think gently, speak gently, live gently.

I've read all of Mattie's poems and I've had to dry my tears more than once. To be filled with so much insight, reflection and wisdom is rare in itself, and unique when you're seeing the world from the eyes of a little boy who so intensely wants us to be able to live in a better world he knows he won't be able to be a part of much longer. Of all the wonderfully magnificent poems he's written, this is my favorite:

Momentous Reality

The next century, the next millennium

Is being made, now, Today, each

second.

We could be working towards

World peace, living as one spirit.

Or, we could be working towards

Disaster, chemical and nuclear

wars.

The harmony, and existence of

the future

Depends on the harmony and

existence

Of each individual here, today.

We must be brave going into the

future.

We must remember to play after

each storm.

We must not live in fear of bad

things

Blocking our way or overcoming

our optimism.

If we can work together to face

the future,

If we can unite as one,

The our future will look, and be,

very bright.

Even though the future seems far

away,

It is actually beginning right now.

And while we are living in the

present,

We must celebrate life everyday,

Knowing that we are becoming

history

With every word, every action, every

moment.

Because we, today, are the history

of tomorrow,

We must ask ourselves each day

What we are doing that may have

An influence on the future.

It really won't be for many years that

The future will indicate if something

we said,

Or if something we did or did not do,

Had an impact on a single individual,

Or if it tickled out to touch the

whole world.

February 2000

- Mattie Stepanek

When asked how he would want to be remembered, he always answered: As a "Poet, Peacemaker, and Philosopher Who Played." And he is. Rest in peace little guy and thank you for the heartprints.

I always remember to play after every storm

http://www.mattieonline.com/

Lesson of the day

Make your choice

Sometimes you wait for destiny's touch

to help pick your choices, decisions and such

change all your maybe's into yes's or no's

direct your own path that you should have chose

But waiting allows your goals to be tweaked

by weakened decisions preferred by the meek

your roads will be handpicked by unknown fate

and then comes regret, and by then it's too late

Your decisions and choices are easy to make

but your excuses are many, and reasons all fake

step up and stand tall, announce your decision

don't ever look back with mirrored revision.

We are victims of choice, but we have a choice. You can choose to make whatever you want happen or you can choose to at least make an effort to make it happen. Choose to make it a good day. Either way; choose, believe, try.

The winds of change are controlled by you.