PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

 I’m tired of all the hate in the world…including mine!

It’s something I wish we could rid ourselves of….

So today a poem for those us, who for whatever reason…

have forgotten the true meaning of love.

The signs of love are all around us…present from the moment of our birth.

They greet us every moment of every day we walk upon the Earth.

Love can be invisible…like an early morning breeze.

You don’t notice it until it kisses your cheek…like the wind kisses the trees.

Love can be obvious…like when from across a crowded room your eyes meet

causing a smile to cross your face and your heart to skip a beat.

Love can be loud and colorful…like a sunset or a rainbow stretching across the sky.

It can be silent and more muted…like how rabbits do their talking with their eyes.

Love can be as loud as a roaring ocean…rising an falling in our heart and in our brain.

It can be as soft and gentle as an early morning walk through the fall of a misty rain.

Love can shine like the sun making our happiest moments… a little more happy and bright…

and even in our saddest moments love is there, like the moon to brighten our darkest night.

There is a drawback to love, however, for those of us who choose it…

and that’s the pain we’re going to feel when love is gone…or when we lose it.

It’s true that is a possibility…those who choose love must face every day

but speaking as one who has chosen love..it’s a price I am willing to pay.

So to those whose love has turned to hate…and like a hurricane of tornado can destroy

for those of you who have forgotten love’s beauty and power and joy…

May you turn back to those feelings of love…before it is too late…

for even with all her drawbacks…she love always be preferred to hate.

Because if you choose love over hate…understanding she may not last forever

and no on can ever truly own her…

You will depart this world with a smile on your face…

feeling lucky enough to have known her.

Today I’m grateful that from my mouth

I have the ability to whisper words of love…

to tell people how much I love them…how much I care..

to tell them how much they mean to me…

before the day I reach for them…

and find they are not there.

May we be blessed to use words of love when we speak

not only for their beauty and appeal….

but words of love have this wonderful ability to help a body mend

and a heart and mind to heal.

They were sitting in the afternoon sun …in a field of flowers atop a little rise…

when the daughter asked a question which took her mother by surprise.

“Are we rich or poor?” The daughter asked… 

“This girl at school, Elizabeth, …she swore…

that since I don’t wear the nicest clothes…our family must be poor.”

“The answer’s not that easy.” Mom said…

“That settles it the daughter cried…we’re poor…I guess I kind of knew it…

“As I say, rich or poor is not that easy to decide.” Mom smiled

“It depends on how you view it.”

“Rich isn’t always about money…that’s looking at life in only one way.

If we had all the money in the world…

would these flowers be any more beautiful than they are today.

“Would the birds sound any different if we wore the finest clothes? 

Would those clouds be any whiter?

Would the breeze smell any sweeter?

Would the sun shine any brighter?”

“We don’t need money to love a sunset…to marvel at a sky so blue

and no amount of money in the world 

could ever change how much that I love you…”

“Money can bring you many things in life.” Mom said

as she stared deep into her daughter’s eyes… 

but there are many more important things

that money cannot buy.”

“What are you going to say to Elizabeth today.” 

Her mom asked the next morning as her daughter greeted the morning flowers, 

smiled at the sun and waved to the waves of the sea…

Her daughter thought for a moment then smiled…

I think I’ll tell Elizabeth…

I hope someday…she’ll be as rich as me.”

In a world where hate, evil, prejudice and the threat of war

each day seem to increase…

I’m grateful I have a favorite person to go to

when my minds searches for peace.

With all the troubles facing us today…

in our countries, our cities and our towns…

why is it some people get so angry

at how other people use pronouns?

When surrounded by wars, poverty, hunger, abuse of power

why does some people’s anger stem

when other people prefer to be called

he/him, she/her or they/them?

Personally, if a person is loving, compassionate and caring

if they treat everyone and the Earth with respect…

I’ll call them any name they prefer…

any label they select.

I will call them by the pronouns they prefer…

without asking their reasons why…

but when I think of them and introduce them to others

I find more beauty not in a pronoun 

but in the possessive adjective…my.

When it comes to those I love… 

When love is the message I want to send…

I prefer to say my wife, my children, my grandchildren…

my niece, my nephew…my friend.

Because for me that is where the wonder, the beauty, and the magic of life lie…

When we know and love a person long enough 

that in our heart they become a my.

THE ART OF HOLDING HANDS

From my little spot upon this Earth…this tiny place from where I stand

sometimes I wonder if there’s anything more beautiful than the art of holding hands.

Yes, holding hands is an art…as beautiful as any sunset…any rainbow…any flower…

and as an art it’s something to be appreciated for its beauty and its power.

Is there anything more beautiful…filled with more emotion…more of our love’s power

than when a baby who’s just been born puts their little hand in ours?

There’s a reason we hold on to their handprints from a time when they are small 

stuck on our refrigerator or framed upon our walls. 

Whenever and wherever we see it we immediately understand

the beauty of the bond connecting people when they are holding hands.

There’s something inherently beautiful…the way our fingers fit together

when another hand we hold…

how we are never to young to hold hands…and we will never be too old.

We see the beauty in holding hands between two lovers, 

a parent and a child 

or two children together having fun…

And we see the art when by the simple act of holding hands

these same two people become sculpted into one

And if you’ve ever been there at the end of a life….

sometimes you’ll smile….oftentimes you’ll cry 

at the beauty of the moment…when your holding hands to say goodbye. 

I think it’s especially important in this time when prejudice and hatred

are forming scars that may never mend…

as we watch two people of different colors, races, religions or genders, holding hands…

we see the beauty and the art in the way their two hands blend.

Which makes me wonder if our world be far more peaceful…

far more beautiful 

and grand….

If we spent less time at war with one another…

and more time holding hands.

http://dailyrhyme-jim.blogspot.com/

Today I’m grateful for babies and for Carl Sandburg

In today’s world they are the perfect pairing 

from which my gratitude is drawn…

Because a baby, as Carl Sandburg said, 

is God’s opinion

that the world is meant to on.

May we be blessed to remember 

Every baby is born with a need…

a need they never grow out of…

even 90 year old babies

will always have a need to be loved.