Mirror mirror, in the sky,
Show me, who I am through Your eyes.
Reflect to me what You see.
Heart… soul… strength…
Search me with Your penetrating gaze,
Into my inward hidden place.
All that You find pleasing to You,
Amplify in Your love and truth.
And that which You wish to refine,
Reveal and transform to Your design.
Grant me willingness,
Surrender and obedience…
The final Two-for-Tuesday prompt for this month is:
Write a realism poem. A poem that is rooted in the real world. Or…
Write a magical poem. A poem that incorporates magical or fantastical elements.
Rising to greet
The dreams in his mind
Awakening him from slumber
Asleep or awake
Draped in fantasy’s luster
Mysteries unfolding slowly
Eyes half opened and
Peering into enchantment
Created in his mind
Appear in connecting fragments
Weaving yesterday’s remembrances
With futuristic anticipations
He’s lifted to woven plains
Where blank pages lie
To offer up spaces
For forethoughts and remains
True love was always away from her grasp,
Always just out of reach.
Now he’s entered into her life,
And is sweeping her off her feet.
His smile, his touch, the kindness of his heart,
The feel of her hand in his.
She wants so badly to believe this is real,
Not a fear-filled impossible labyrinth.
But is this a fading dream she’s in?
She’s been hurt and loved in vain.
Her heart torn in pieces, black and blue,
Sworn never to love again.
She’s loving him with most of her heart,
Right now that’s all she can give.
Deciding with caution more every day,
She wants to be with him…
This post comes from a daily reading I receive from the Hazelden Foundation. Addiction treatment, recovery literature etc. It really struck me- maybe it will strike a couple of you too!
To use the past without being controlled by it — that is our responsibility to history. Because the past is irrecoverably vanished, it’s sometimes tempting to forget it or to falsify it. But being true to ourselves means being true to our history.
Past cruelties can remain powerful in our lives — yet to take possession of our history means to free ourselves of bondage to past events. Nothing can ever change them. If we are to make the future good, we’ll learn what the past can teach us. But our freedom requires us to make choices based on the needs of the present, not the past.
I can act at every moment in such a way as to honor the past and enhance the future.
You are reading from the book:
The Promise of a New Day by Karen Casey and Martha Vanceburg
Grow toward the sun.
Once planted, it’s begun.
New life springing forward.
Beauty progressing upward.
Lifting spirits high.
A floral lullaby.
Sorrow is left down below.
Happiness is in the glow…
The first tracks in new fallen snow,
Once untouched and spotless.
Evidence of movement, of time’s passing,
Impressions upon winter’s alabaster garment…
Picture courtesy of a great blog I follow:
The Obvious And Hidden, Fine Art Photography : http://theobviousandhidden.com
You may check out their gallery at: http://theobviousandhidden.com/gallery/