"This is a piece that came to me at the peak of my ministry in school, being the leader of a growing campus fellowship. Things were blooming and radiant, and God opened my eyes to see the greatest folly of great men-PRIDE." de_destined
‘Bravo, Bravo, Bravo’, some shouted,
‘Excellent, Brilliant, Beautiful’, hailed the rest,
‘Is that meant for me?’, inquired the hailed,
Right there and then his chest heaved,
Like a ball just slightly inflated,
Like flour acted upon by yeast,
He assumed a more pronounced look,
Looking straight ahead like the world conqueror,
The look of him ready to fall.
‘Ha, ha, ha’, laughed the adversary,
‘Ho, ho, ho’, joined the emissaries,
Another fall to hardeningly break to pieces,
Beholding with passionate wickedness,
Subtly guiding the minds of the hailers,
Expectantly waiting to hear the crash,
The adversary awaits like a patient dog,
Beaming with radiance and expectation,
Beholding he like a tree to be felled,
Knowing he has the joker which never fails-
Pride precedes a fall.
‘Mercy, Mercy, Mercy’, cried the advocate,
‘Behold he’s your handiwork’, said He again,
With a look of compassion upon His face,
Pain hiding just underneath the surface,
Heart pleading for a change of focus,
‘Look to the mountains for help’, He moaned,
But a part of Him kept consoling Him,
Reminding Him of a dog about to wander,
Its ears are deafened against the master’s whistle,
Slowly the thought found expression in Him,
Another fall might soon be witnessed,
With little He can do about it,
This made Him remember the fact that-
Pride precedes a fall.
The hailed, the adversary and the advocate,
All characters in a simple drama,
A drama that happens all the time,
Practically every-time at every place,
The hailed ignorant of his doom,
The adversary aware of his near victory,
The advocate never losing hope at all,
But The One sits on the throne and watches,
Like a viewer beholding a tragic opera,
Knowing the hailed dictates the fate of the drama,
Silently watching and waiting for the end,
A silent thought nudges His own heart too-
Pride precedes a fall.
Taciturnity is not a sign of weirdness, It's rather a sign of deepness, Within the quiet man lies a mine of wealth, Ideas that when facilitated, will leave the globe reverberating!
Monday, 5 November 2007
Nightingale
"It was a trying moment, a time when the presence of another healer would have made all the difference. Then, she surfaced! I’ll never forget that period in my life. She was an answer to my prayer. She still is." de_destined
It sat on a tree,
The characteristic posture of all birds,
But there’s a difference in the perch,
As if it was master of the others,
Others while they strive and struggle,
Each trying to outsmart the other,
All aiming towards impressing the others,
It wore a look of confidence,
As if in a world of its own,
Knowing all it takes is a whistle,
And all will know it’s the smartest.
The voice so sharp and firm,
Yet having so breathtaking an effect,
Bringing about an atmosphere of awe,
While applying soothe to those in need,
The music so distinct,
Discernible even in the midst of many,
From the crowd standing out,
With confidence no need to force,
Naturally flowing with gestures of life,
All harmony tuned to one frequency,
Giving meaning to the lives of all.
At a time most needed you came,
Almost like an answer to a prayer,
In days transforming the lives of many,
Left untouched for many a year,
The words rolling from the source,
Endlessly pouring like a balm,
Destined to soothe the pains of all.
Valued more than gold,
Priced more than rubies,
Worth highly inestimable,
Night-in-gale.
It sat on a tree,
The characteristic posture of all birds,
But there’s a difference in the perch,
As if it was master of the others,
Others while they strive and struggle,
Each trying to outsmart the other,
All aiming towards impressing the others,
It wore a look of confidence,
As if in a world of its own,
Knowing all it takes is a whistle,
And all will know it’s the smartest.
The voice so sharp and firm,
Yet having so breathtaking an effect,
Bringing about an atmosphere of awe,
While applying soothe to those in need,
The music so distinct,
Discernible even in the midst of many,
From the crowd standing out,
With confidence no need to force,
Naturally flowing with gestures of life,
All harmony tuned to one frequency,
Giving meaning to the lives of all.
At a time most needed you came,
Almost like an answer to a prayer,
In days transforming the lives of many,
Left untouched for many a year,
The words rolling from the source,
Endlessly pouring like a balm,
Destined to soothe the pains of all.
Valued more than gold,
Priced more than rubies,
Worth highly inestimable,
Night-in-gale.
Perch
"I wrote this piece at a time in my life when I had started to ask questions about my person, I felt out of place, like I did not belong, but then God showed me that ‘the depth of your past is an indication of the zenith of your future’. The story about the bird, it’s real!" de_destined
The beginning of yet another day,
The sun just about rising from the horizon,
The breeze gently caressing the trees,
The only sound the chirping of birds,
Likely dishing out instruction to their babes,
All was cool and all was beautiful,
Especially the crow of the father cock,
Loudly and boldly declaring for the world to hear:
It’s the beginning of yet another day.
It’s also the hour of prayer,
While many still rolled and turned in bed,
Others hoping the cock’s crow were a dream,
But of course many others wide awake,
Knowing the day would be a full one,
Wisely lay all at The Mater’s feet,
Believing it was the wisest action to take.
I had joined the insignificant number of people,
Who believe a prayer-less day means vanity,
I launched out to speak with The Expert,
Relishing in the wonderful beauty of nature,
But while in the middle of prayer,
My eyes fell on and beheld,
A spectacle that looked out of place,
Instinctively I paused to look,
Standing so still and attentive,
My reaction felt so funny to me,
And I simply remembered the fact that,
It’s meant to be the hour of prayer.
The spectacle, how could I forget?
Standing all alone amidst the greenery,
Other trees swinging to and fro,
Birds singing in them in carols,
Was a tree without a single leaf,
With branches all dry and piney,
The kind a food-seller would rejoice over,
Almost the image of many men,
With arms extending all around,
But all destined with only one leg,
It was a spectacle to behold,
Still realizing it’s a time to pray,
Curiosity made me look beyond the façade,
And what I saw made me ruminate,
That spectacle, how could I forget.
It sat and looked all around,
Perch, a better description of the posture,
So still and silent and broody,
So determined a look for a bird,
Perched on the tree that stood alone,
As if their destinies were linked,
More like the rejected and the outcast,
It must have felt all alone in the world,
But the alone-ness was not the attraction,
It was the look of absolute determination,
As if saying, “You’ll all be proven wrong”,
It sat and probably observed the wind,
Almost blending in with the tree,
But I knew it had chosen the right spot,
A place that would bring the greatest surprise,
It must have had the mind of philosophy,
And it must have nurtured a feeling at heart,
‘A surprise entry never fails’,
While I still looked on and beheld,
It sat and looked all around.
All through the day I wondered,
Having laid my anxiety before Him,
The perching bird always coming to mind,
No matter how hard I tried,
The thought kept surfacing again,
Trying to correlate what I saw,
A beautiful scene, yet hard to feel,
Then suddenly it hit me,
At a time I least expected,
I clearly saw me in the bird,
My life in a drama before my eyes,
So many others having the same storyline,
A small smile brought radiance to me,
Knowing the latter part was the best,
Fully aware that whatever it looks like,
Tomorrow still holds the great promises,
Like a little girl nudging her mother,
A quiet thought brought smiles to my face,
Just as I finished praying earlier on,
The bird left the position of perch,
Having considered and carefully observed,
Other birds watched in great amazement,
As the bird arose and flew higher above.
The beginning of yet another day,
The sun just about rising from the horizon,
The breeze gently caressing the trees,
The only sound the chirping of birds,
Likely dishing out instruction to their babes,
All was cool and all was beautiful,
Especially the crow of the father cock,
Loudly and boldly declaring for the world to hear:
It’s the beginning of yet another day.
It’s also the hour of prayer,
While many still rolled and turned in bed,
Others hoping the cock’s crow were a dream,
But of course many others wide awake,
Knowing the day would be a full one,
Wisely lay all at The Mater’s feet,
Believing it was the wisest action to take.
I had joined the insignificant number of people,
Who believe a prayer-less day means vanity,
I launched out to speak with The Expert,
Relishing in the wonderful beauty of nature,
But while in the middle of prayer,
My eyes fell on and beheld,
A spectacle that looked out of place,
Instinctively I paused to look,
Standing so still and attentive,
My reaction felt so funny to me,
And I simply remembered the fact that,
It’s meant to be the hour of prayer.
The spectacle, how could I forget?
Standing all alone amidst the greenery,
Other trees swinging to and fro,
Birds singing in them in carols,
Was a tree without a single leaf,
With branches all dry and piney,
The kind a food-seller would rejoice over,
Almost the image of many men,
With arms extending all around,
But all destined with only one leg,
It was a spectacle to behold,
Still realizing it’s a time to pray,
Curiosity made me look beyond the façade,
And what I saw made me ruminate,
That spectacle, how could I forget.
It sat and looked all around,
Perch, a better description of the posture,
So still and silent and broody,
So determined a look for a bird,
Perched on the tree that stood alone,
As if their destinies were linked,
More like the rejected and the outcast,
It must have felt all alone in the world,
But the alone-ness was not the attraction,
It was the look of absolute determination,
As if saying, “You’ll all be proven wrong”,
It sat and probably observed the wind,
Almost blending in with the tree,
But I knew it had chosen the right spot,
A place that would bring the greatest surprise,
It must have had the mind of philosophy,
And it must have nurtured a feeling at heart,
‘A surprise entry never fails’,
While I still looked on and beheld,
It sat and looked all around.
All through the day I wondered,
Having laid my anxiety before Him,
The perching bird always coming to mind,
No matter how hard I tried,
The thought kept surfacing again,
Trying to correlate what I saw,
A beautiful scene, yet hard to feel,
Then suddenly it hit me,
At a time I least expected,
I clearly saw me in the bird,
My life in a drama before my eyes,
So many others having the same storyline,
A small smile brought radiance to me,
Knowing the latter part was the best,
Fully aware that whatever it looks like,
Tomorrow still holds the great promises,
Like a little girl nudging her mother,
A quiet thought brought smiles to my face,
Just as I finished praying earlier on,
The bird left the position of perch,
Having considered and carefully observed,
Other birds watched in great amazement,
As the bird arose and flew higher above.
Emotions
"I spoke with others, counseled many to joy, but even then, I had no-one to bare my mind to –but God." de_destined
He looked at her and felt so happy,
Who on earth could ever have imagined,
That somebody beaming now with joy,
An hour ago was talking about suicide,
But then he remembered the many others,
Who at one time were angry at life,
Almost desperate to expire their session,
Blaming fate for all their travails,
But after spending some time with him,
Reason is restored back unto them,
Like a toy momentarily snatched away,
From the hands of an obedient girl,
As if the toy had been newly restored,
How many he failed to recall,
For quite a number they had been,
All having a dilemma same in nature,
Emotions shattered altogether.
Unconsciously lapsing into the land of dreams,
He saw himself in the midst of flowers,
Himself awarded the position of the bee,
Quietly humming a buzzy tune,
Trying to find which flower to suck,
Beautiful and inviting, the flowers all looked,
He felt like the choice was all his own,
But a big little problem presented itself,
The sweetest nectar was not his target,
His senses tended towards the best.
And the flowers ignorant of his predicament,
Beholding the bee as the man of the day,
All portrayed themselves in a fashionable way,
Wanting to bag the prize of prizes.
Determinedly he drifted rightward,
Believing to have recognized the best,
At the very verge of necting the flower,
A sound brought him back to reality.
Gently but purposefully it repeated itself,
It was the tapping of hand on wood,
A gentle knock at his very door,
With a shake of his head he arose,
A song silently forming in his mind,
“Helpless helper”, the title of the song,
Opening the door, he found another,
The look of who tells the entire story,
Concern made him reach out and he knew,
It’s going to be another session of counsel,
His instincts readily reached out to his Source,
A word of prayer crossing his mind,
And then he silently asked The Master,
“Is there really a helper for helpers?”
Following the victim of emotion and distraught,
The very latest in his list of clients,
Knowing she’ll soon beam with joy,
After having listened to the comforter,
As he is known and called by all.
Seeing her off some moments later,
His expectations not being cut off,
He almost busted a question that flashed through his mind,
“How would it be if you were to know,
How many fragments my own emotion is?”
He looked at her and felt so happy,
Who on earth could ever have imagined,
That somebody beaming now with joy,
An hour ago was talking about suicide,
But then he remembered the many others,
Who at one time were angry at life,
Almost desperate to expire their session,
Blaming fate for all their travails,
But after spending some time with him,
Reason is restored back unto them,
Like a toy momentarily snatched away,
From the hands of an obedient girl,
As if the toy had been newly restored,
How many he failed to recall,
For quite a number they had been,
All having a dilemma same in nature,
Emotions shattered altogether.
Unconsciously lapsing into the land of dreams,
He saw himself in the midst of flowers,
Himself awarded the position of the bee,
Quietly humming a buzzy tune,
Trying to find which flower to suck,
Beautiful and inviting, the flowers all looked,
He felt like the choice was all his own,
But a big little problem presented itself,
The sweetest nectar was not his target,
His senses tended towards the best.
And the flowers ignorant of his predicament,
Beholding the bee as the man of the day,
All portrayed themselves in a fashionable way,
Wanting to bag the prize of prizes.
Determinedly he drifted rightward,
Believing to have recognized the best,
At the very verge of necting the flower,
A sound brought him back to reality.
Gently but purposefully it repeated itself,
It was the tapping of hand on wood,
A gentle knock at his very door,
With a shake of his head he arose,
A song silently forming in his mind,
“Helpless helper”, the title of the song,
Opening the door, he found another,
The look of who tells the entire story,
Concern made him reach out and he knew,
It’s going to be another session of counsel,
His instincts readily reached out to his Source,
A word of prayer crossing his mind,
And then he silently asked The Master,
“Is there really a helper for helpers?”
Following the victim of emotion and distraught,
The very latest in his list of clients,
Knowing she’ll soon beam with joy,
After having listened to the comforter,
As he is known and called by all.
Seeing her off some moments later,
His expectations not being cut off,
He almost busted a question that flashed through his mind,
“How would it be if you were to know,
How many fragments my own emotion is?”
Thursday, 30 August 2007
Love is beautiful
It hits you head-on,
Cupid's arrow never misses,
Blindly you follow your heart,
Like a man devoid of reason,
Love is blind many would say,
But actually love is sightful,
But what drives it, to the naked eye,
is nothing to be talked about,
So sharp is the inner eye,
it sees beyond the realm of the natural.
Eyes glowing radiatly,
Heart thumping rhythmically,
Hands feeling the succulence,
Souls knitted so tranquil,
Nothing matters to the lovebirds,
But the beauty of the golden moment,
Love is beautiful.
Cupid's arrow never misses,
Blindly you follow your heart,
Like a man devoid of reason,
Love is blind many would say,
But actually love is sightful,
But what drives it, to the naked eye,
is nothing to be talked about,
So sharp is the inner eye,
it sees beyond the realm of the natural.
Eyes glowing radiatly,
Heart thumping rhythmically,
Hands feeling the succulence,
Souls knitted so tranquil,
Nothing matters to the lovebirds,
But the beauty of the golden moment,
Love is beautiful.
Friday, 3 August 2007
Friends
Yesterday was my birthday! It was fun, real fun. Right from midnight calls and SMS`s started coming in. My lines were as busy as a commercial operator`s. Till the end of the day, my phone never stopped ringing. I got several "happy birthdays!", even up to this morning!!
But the thrill of the whole gist was not in the food, nor the drinks, nor the calls per se. The beauty of the entire day was the thrill of knowing that there are friends that care.
It`s moments like this that one feels really appreciated and loved.
To all of you out there who made my day a special one, here`s Dee saying, thanks a zillion for being a friend. I cherish and adore your friendship, and I love you.
But the thrill of the whole gist was not in the food, nor the drinks, nor the calls per se. The beauty of the entire day was the thrill of knowing that there are friends that care.
It`s moments like this that one feels really appreciated and loved.
To all of you out there who made my day a special one, here`s Dee saying, thanks a zillion for being a friend. I cherish and adore your friendship, and I love you.
Monday, 9 July 2007
The Tunnel's Light
The tunnel looks long, longer than expected,
Filled with slime, dirt and discouragement immeasurable,
A glimpse at the end, but all you see is darkness,
Darkness so near, it clings to your skin.
The people you looked up to, have all deserted you,
At a time when their help would have meant a lot to you;
Help seems so vague and extremely unattainable,
And now you are at the verge of desperation and collapse.
The pain! Oh so gruesome and unbearable,
Making thoughts of death so welcome and comforting,
“Why me Lord, why me alone?” you ask,
“In this tunnel so dark and lonely”
Excommunicated, rejected and alienated,
Broken, busted and sorely disgusted,
Life now is to you but a pain in the neck,
And all hope is leaked out of you completely.
Tomorrow to you is an endless journey of futility,
Days of struggle, filled with tears and nothingness,
With the tunnel so dark and devoid of a single ray,
How will you ever stand in rank with the mighty?!
But how long will you live a life of defeat and complaint,
Being dug deeper and deeper into the pit of pity,
If you look harder you will but see,
The light resides not at the end of the tunnel,
The light to the tunnel is inside of you.
Arise; shine, for your light is come,
Turn up the sparks of illumination welled up in you,
Look deep within, rather than without;
Life is only dark when you choose to leave it so,
Dare to be mighty, rank with the glorious.
Pick up your life that was broken in pieces,
Put them together and learn from the fall,
You were born to rule and reign in this world,
Fashioned by the best for a life of purpose.
Arise from the pit, shake off the dust,
Transform your caterpillar to become a beautiful butterfly,
Stretch forth your hand to touch His garment,
Draw strength and hope from the fountain of virtue,
And move out in strength to fulfill your destiny.
Destined for the top, packaged for greatness,
The choice to destiny fulfill, lies in your hand,
Prove to the world an agent of change you are,
Dare to be daring, take the leap of faith,
Tap into your potentials, transform them to manifestations,
Say like David, “I’m a wonder unto many”,
For even the world cannot stand in the way of he,
Who his world, was destined to change.
In all you see, do or imagine,
Let this thought always be with you,
“The light lies not at the end of the tunnel,
You are the illumination in the tunnel’s tummy”,
When this realization finally dawns on you,
You’ll be able to say at the end of your voyage:
“I came, I saw, I conquered”.
Filled with slime, dirt and discouragement immeasurable,
A glimpse at the end, but all you see is darkness,
Darkness so near, it clings to your skin.
The people you looked up to, have all deserted you,
At a time when their help would have meant a lot to you;
Help seems so vague and extremely unattainable,
And now you are at the verge of desperation and collapse.
The pain! Oh so gruesome and unbearable,
Making thoughts of death so welcome and comforting,
“Why me Lord, why me alone?” you ask,
“In this tunnel so dark and lonely”
Excommunicated, rejected and alienated,
Broken, busted and sorely disgusted,
Life now is to you but a pain in the neck,
And all hope is leaked out of you completely.
Tomorrow to you is an endless journey of futility,
Days of struggle, filled with tears and nothingness,
With the tunnel so dark and devoid of a single ray,
How will you ever stand in rank with the mighty?!
But how long will you live a life of defeat and complaint,
Being dug deeper and deeper into the pit of pity,
If you look harder you will but see,
The light resides not at the end of the tunnel,
The light to the tunnel is inside of you.
Arise; shine, for your light is come,
Turn up the sparks of illumination welled up in you,
Look deep within, rather than without;
Life is only dark when you choose to leave it so,
Dare to be mighty, rank with the glorious.
Pick up your life that was broken in pieces,
Put them together and learn from the fall,
You were born to rule and reign in this world,
Fashioned by the best for a life of purpose.
Arise from the pit, shake off the dust,
Transform your caterpillar to become a beautiful butterfly,
Stretch forth your hand to touch His garment,
Draw strength and hope from the fountain of virtue,
And move out in strength to fulfill your destiny.
Destined for the top, packaged for greatness,
The choice to destiny fulfill, lies in your hand,
Prove to the world an agent of change you are,
Dare to be daring, take the leap of faith,
Tap into your potentials, transform them to manifestations,
Say like David, “I’m a wonder unto many”,
For even the world cannot stand in the way of he,
Who his world, was destined to change.
In all you see, do or imagine,
Let this thought always be with you,
“The light lies not at the end of the tunnel,
You are the illumination in the tunnel’s tummy”,
When this realization finally dawns on you,
You’ll be able to say at the end of your voyage:
“I came, I saw, I conquered”.
Tuesday, 22 May 2007
Tehila, Tehila.
“Vanity upon vanity,
Life is nothing but vanity”,
So thinks the man with no trace of purpose,
Devoid of vision and life ambitions,
Life so lack luster and full of gloom,
A man with no iota of gratitude at all,
Can only see the darkness in the night.
But for me, I’ll never be disillusioned,
For I know there’s more to life than this,
Embedded in the heart of the greatest of all,
Master of the universe, King of all,
Help when needed, comfort at a beckon,
In Him we live, in Him we move,
In Him we have the entirety of our being.
All I need do is be acquitted with Him,
Recognizing Him as the Lord of all,
Not for the gift but the giver Himself,
I’ll raise my arms and hallow His name,
I’ll holler and shout as if I’m insane,
For indeed the reason for my being alive,
Is to declare the praise of His name alone.
Tehila, Tehila, a song of praise,
Worship entrustment, meant for the grateful,
Even when it seems there’s no hope at all,
That’s when I’ll sing a song, Tehila, Tehila!
Life could be vanity, nothing but vanity,
But when it’s beheld through the eyes of hope,
Faced with a gratitude for the fact that it’s there,
Embraced with the optimism of a woman in labor,
Looked upon with eyes full of gratefulness,
Thanks to the One able to do abundance,
More than we think, ask or imagine,
Then the surety can be there in the mind of all,
The reason we live is to praise His name.
Hands lifted in worship, praising His name,
He who with a blast of His nose alone,
Parted into two the sea that was red,
He rides on winds, using the earth as a slipper,
His name I will praise form now till then,
I’ll sing a song to worship my King and Lover,
Tehila, Tehila, my song of praise.
Life is nothing but vanity”,
So thinks the man with no trace of purpose,
Devoid of vision and life ambitions,
Life so lack luster and full of gloom,
A man with no iota of gratitude at all,
Can only see the darkness in the night.
But for me, I’ll never be disillusioned,
For I know there’s more to life than this,
Embedded in the heart of the greatest of all,
Master of the universe, King of all,
Help when needed, comfort at a beckon,
In Him we live, in Him we move,
In Him we have the entirety of our being.
All I need do is be acquitted with Him,
Recognizing Him as the Lord of all,
Not for the gift but the giver Himself,
I’ll raise my arms and hallow His name,
I’ll holler and shout as if I’m insane,
For indeed the reason for my being alive,
Is to declare the praise of His name alone.
Tehila, Tehila, a song of praise,
Worship entrustment, meant for the grateful,
Even when it seems there’s no hope at all,
That’s when I’ll sing a song, Tehila, Tehila!
Life could be vanity, nothing but vanity,
But when it’s beheld through the eyes of hope,
Faced with a gratitude for the fact that it’s there,
Embraced with the optimism of a woman in labor,
Looked upon with eyes full of gratefulness,
Thanks to the One able to do abundance,
More than we think, ask or imagine,
Then the surety can be there in the mind of all,
The reason we live is to praise His name.
Hands lifted in worship, praising His name,
He who with a blast of His nose alone,
Parted into two the sea that was red,
He rides on winds, using the earth as a slipper,
His name I will praise form now till then,
I’ll sing a song to worship my King and Lover,
Tehila, Tehila, my song of praise.
God’s Specialty
With a smile so radiant,
Who wouldn’t be intoxicated?
With laughter so merry,
Who wouldn’t be delighted?
Heart so large and warm,
Who wouldn’t be captivated?
You are one of God’s specialties,
In His best mood He made you,
Everything in their right proportions,
And behold they were good.
The moon, always coming out nightly,
To catch even just a glimpse,
Of God’s very specialty,
The sun can’t wait till morning,
To shine forth its rays of affection,
Upon the one it’s fallen in love with,
God’s very specialty;
The gazelles, they blush in shyness,
At the passing of one so gorgeous,
Even the very birds of the air,
They reserve their best of pitch,
So when they sing in the morning,
It’s for the best of His creations,
The wind so gentle and cool,
Can’t help but seize every opportunity,
To caress God’s very specialty,
In its own way saying you’re deeply loved.
And humanity, ah! the most expressive,
Can’t help but stare in wonder,
At the beauty of God’s specialty,
Not only in the container,
But the content so well ventilated,
Outrightly transcendental!
How can beauty and charisma,
Superiority and humility,
Majesty and servitude,
And a heart so full of love,
Be found in just one personality?
Impossible it seemed to men,
But on the mountains will I shout,
Making them know that I’ve found just that,
All contained in God’s own specialty,
A gem, a rarity, a miracle: You.
Who wouldn’t be intoxicated?
With laughter so merry,
Who wouldn’t be delighted?
Heart so large and warm,
Who wouldn’t be captivated?
You are one of God’s specialties,
In His best mood He made you,
Everything in their right proportions,
And behold they were good.
The moon, always coming out nightly,
To catch even just a glimpse,
Of God’s very specialty,
The sun can’t wait till morning,
To shine forth its rays of affection,
Upon the one it’s fallen in love with,
God’s very specialty;
The gazelles, they blush in shyness,
At the passing of one so gorgeous,
Even the very birds of the air,
They reserve their best of pitch,
So when they sing in the morning,
It’s for the best of His creations,
The wind so gentle and cool,
Can’t help but seize every opportunity,
To caress God’s very specialty,
In its own way saying you’re deeply loved.
And humanity, ah! the most expressive,
Can’t help but stare in wonder,
At the beauty of God’s specialty,
Not only in the container,
But the content so well ventilated,
Outrightly transcendental!
How can beauty and charisma,
Superiority and humility,
Majesty and servitude,
And a heart so full of love,
Be found in just one personality?
Impossible it seemed to men,
But on the mountains will I shout,
Making them know that I’ve found just that,
All contained in God’s own specialty,
A gem, a rarity, a miracle: You.
Friday, 18 May 2007
I wish...
I wish I was a loner,
With an ability to survive all alone,
Needing nobody at all,
And needed by none,
I wish I could live forever,
All by myself.
Safe from the prying eyes of others,
From the probing noses of family,
Saved the agony of forever involvement,
Always asked ‘how are you?’
Sleep and wake at my own pace,
I wish I could live forever,
All by myself.
A lone tree standing tall,
Its root firm and deep in the soil,
Needing no friends nor foes,
Devoid of reliance on others,
Total annihilation quite welcome,
I wish I could live forever,
All by myself.
Then I could avoid all involvements,
I could make decisions consulting noone,
I could lounge, work or play at will,
With noone to ask, "what doest thou?"
No fear of rejection nor hurt emotions,
I wish i could live forever,
All by myself.
But nobody can survive as an island,
Needing and needed by none,
Friends and families alike,
Though atimes could be a burden,
Make a man who he is,
Even the dead in the pit of the earth,
Accompany themselves till their fate is known
With an ability to survive all alone,
Needing nobody at all,
And needed by none,
I wish I could live forever,
All by myself.
Safe from the prying eyes of others,
From the probing noses of family,
Saved the agony of forever involvement,
Always asked ‘how are you?’
Sleep and wake at my own pace,
I wish I could live forever,
All by myself.
A lone tree standing tall,
Its root firm and deep in the soil,
Needing no friends nor foes,
Devoid of reliance on others,
Total annihilation quite welcome,
I wish I could live forever,
All by myself.
Then I could avoid all involvements,
I could make decisions consulting noone,
I could lounge, work or play at will,
With noone to ask, "what doest thou?"
No fear of rejection nor hurt emotions,
I wish i could live forever,
All by myself.
But nobody can survive as an island,
Needing and needed by none,
Friends and families alike,
Though atimes could be a burden,
Make a man who he is,
Even the dead in the pit of the earth,
Accompany themselves till their fate is known
Friday, 27 April 2007
The Heart of a Woman
It’s tender, so tender;
Just like the heart of a baby,
It knows no guile,
It keeps no evil,
It was made to nurture,
To foster and to care,
A gift from heaven,
The heart of a woman.
It’s fragile, so fragile,
Easily broken and hurt,
Due to its nature so trusting,
It easily falls prey to prowling predators,
If only men would treat it with tenderness,
Caring for it like the pupil of their eyes,
A rare gift yet easily broken,
The heart of a woman.
It’s treacherous, so treacherous,
It spits death like the fangs of a snake,
Handle with care or get bitten with death,
Vengeance to it is like sipping water,
Especially when betrayed beyond she can bear,
Relentlessly seeking justice to an extreme,
Take care before you make a stab at it,
The heart of a woman.
So many things it can be at once,
It can be loving now, yet cruel in a flash,
Sweet now but calculating as well,
Gentle in an instant, a roaring lion the very next,
Only those who come with good intents,
Can enjoy the miracle within the pumping organ,
The heart of a woman.
Nations have been made through its beauty,
Nations have fallen under its craftiness,
Men have arisen due to its love,
Generals have died due to its jealousy,
Paupers made king because of it,
Kings turned pauper for neglecting it,
So alive, so dead,
So in love, so hateful,
The irony of a woman, who can know,
The heart of a woman.
A weapon of war, an instrument of peace,
A channel of love, an ochestrator of evil,
When loved it makes alive,
When angered its fluids are deadly,
The wisdom of man can never comprehend,
How so complex such a simple organ is,
Show me a man who was able to know,
How exactly to steer her heart,
Without even a moment of trepidation,
The dark belly of a place called Sheol,
That’s where such a man resides.
I’ll handle with care,
I’ll thread with caution,
I’ll touch with feeling,
I’ll nurture so gently,
For the beauty within a woman’s heart,
Is more than enough to build destiny.
Just like the heart of a baby,
It knows no guile,
It keeps no evil,
It was made to nurture,
To foster and to care,
A gift from heaven,
The heart of a woman.
It’s fragile, so fragile,
Easily broken and hurt,
Due to its nature so trusting,
It easily falls prey to prowling predators,
If only men would treat it with tenderness,
Caring for it like the pupil of their eyes,
A rare gift yet easily broken,
The heart of a woman.
It’s treacherous, so treacherous,
It spits death like the fangs of a snake,
Handle with care or get bitten with death,
Vengeance to it is like sipping water,
Especially when betrayed beyond she can bear,
Relentlessly seeking justice to an extreme,
Take care before you make a stab at it,
The heart of a woman.
So many things it can be at once,
It can be loving now, yet cruel in a flash,
Sweet now but calculating as well,
Gentle in an instant, a roaring lion the very next,
Only those who come with good intents,
Can enjoy the miracle within the pumping organ,
The heart of a woman.
Nations have been made through its beauty,
Nations have fallen under its craftiness,
Men have arisen due to its love,
Generals have died due to its jealousy,
Paupers made king because of it,
Kings turned pauper for neglecting it,
So alive, so dead,
So in love, so hateful,
The irony of a woman, who can know,
The heart of a woman.
A weapon of war, an instrument of peace,
A channel of love, an ochestrator of evil,
When loved it makes alive,
When angered its fluids are deadly,
The wisdom of man can never comprehend,
How so complex such a simple organ is,
Show me a man who was able to know,
How exactly to steer her heart,
Without even a moment of trepidation,
The dark belly of a place called Sheol,
That’s where such a man resides.
I’ll handle with care,
I’ll thread with caution,
I’ll touch with feeling,
I’ll nurture so gently,
For the beauty within a woman’s heart,
Is more than enough to build destiny.
Tuesday, 13 February 2007
Sought Out...
My search is Over,
I've found my Lover,
With a heart so Tender,
Unfolding like Flower,
I'll smile Forever,
For the kiss of a Lover,
Is sweeter than Butter.
I've found my Lover,
With a heart so Tender,
Unfolding like Flower,
I'll smile Forever,
For the kiss of a Lover,
Is sweeter than Butter.
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