Thursday, May 18, 2006
A fable
Ashley always wanted that rose she saw.
The rose she thought beautiful;
The rose that enhanced her own self.
With the rose,
She felt her own self would be at peace.
The rose completes her,
She always believe.
For out of reach, the rose was desirable.
The rose, her dream.
Now, Ashley held the rose tightly in her hand.
Opening up, thorns prick her palm.
The rose she thought beautiful;
And still believed so,
Turns out to hurt her.
No longer at peace,
Completed and still lacking
Tears shedded at the pain;
Heart wincing at that hollowness
In reach, the rose was a dilemna
The rose, her fulfilled dream
New reality to face.
She still loved the rose deeply;
But ll she be better off without it?
Would you choose..
To have your dream and bore the pain?
Or would you choose
To give your dream up.. cos the pain seems unbearable?
yet another day of memories...
5/18/2006 03:19:00 AM
An Instrument of Peace
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love.
Where there is injury, pardon.
Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, light.
Where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant me that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
To be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love;
For it is in giving that we receive,
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
(Attributed to St Francis of Assisi )