Ying or Yang Choice

The mind is like a pool of water. When it becomes agitated it is difficult to see the bottom of the pool. But if you allow it settle, and clear, the depth of the answer you are looking for will appear.
 Your life may not of had such a happy beginning. However, that will not define who you are. It is only the path in life you choose, that in the end will define who you really are. Anything is possible with understanding. To understand ones destiny, is a road less traveled by many. Finding your way to let go of the past, knowing those thing no longer matter, that the only things that matter are the choices you make now, and  that in itself will lead you to the destiny, and peace you seek. 
By moving on with your life, by letting go of the past, you become a better person. A enlightened individual if you will. By knowing that what you do now matters more now than the past, and that the choice you make now, can not only effect your world, but that of others, and will help guide you to make the correct choice. 
To be Happy or Unhappy, Content or Uncontented  Positive or Negative, To being Peace or Destruction. The choice is yours alone to make. Life is like a pool of water. The pool is formed one drop at a time. So to is life, each action becomes a drop. Each drop becomes part of the pool, blending, and flowing with the rest. Each choice you make, whether good or not so good, becomes part of the pool of life. Always remember the pool you create called life, defines who you are and if you have peace or turmoil in your life. So choose wisely the drops of life in your pool that others may see, as the drops define your very soul.

Perfect Creek

It"s a beautiful fall morning with just a bit of cool crispness in the air. Just enough to wake you up, yet not enough to keep the fish from biting. The creek is crystal clear and about four to six feet deep. The fish are good size an look to be large bass, bluegill, and catfish, from what I can tell. Everyone says that the small creeks are not worth fishing.... well, to tell you the truth I am glad that they think that. Well, for now, lets try our luck. 
I am going to use a old trick that I learned from my grandpa. You take three number six bait hooks, and put them about four to six inches apart. The hooks have to be on a loop to swing free. Then, take about a inch of worm looped on each hook with about half of the worm free to move. Then flick it out, and let it float to the bottom. After a  minute or two, give it a lite tug, and let it float to the bottom again. It drives the fish nuts, and at times it never gets to the bottom. Its kind of like chumming with three chunks of bait.
What a beautiful morning to relax and enjoy some fishing. Aw man, It looks like I may have a problem fishing this morning. Old bear dog has decided he wants to go for a swim and chase the fish. Oh well, I love watching him chase minnows in the shallows. He caught one and you should see the look on his face as it wiggled on his tongue. You know that uckkkkoooo nasty look that's just plain funny.
Well, guess he got his fill of fun he is headed for the truck. Glad he is in the back, I at least wont smell of wet dog when we go home. Oh well, on to another creek.

The Healing

Cold steel will cut the flesh deep,and the wound will throb and burn. But the flesh will heal and scar, and fade with time and natures help.
So the question is, what will heal, what soothing balm will ease the pain of a lanced and wounded heart. What will heal the deepest wounds upon the deepest part of the ones own soul?
Marks upon the flesh will fade with the passing of time, and loss of pain. To be forgotten, and lost in the minds vast memory.
But, when the heart is wounded the scars, and pain remain unhealed long after the loss of one loved. And yet, even with time a heart may heal, although never will it be the same. For a love once found is never lost, it will forever have a name.

Fire Lake Revisited

We are back at the Lake. The cabin is so nice, and warm. As I look out the window, the view of the Lake is breathtaking. The snow is on the ground, just a light dusting. The trees have a light covering of snow on them, making the pines even more beautiful. The small Creek that runs by the cabin, has water trickling over the rocks. Even in winter, that stream still runs.

It's been two years since I met her, and now, here we are again where we first met a each other. As I recall, that was then the full of the year. Now here we are, close to Christmas, two years later. Time flies, when you are happy. The fireplace is so warm, and cozy. I had A new sofa brought to the cabin. A love seat, if you will. A beautiful hunter green. Of course I still have that old leather wing back chair, and I have added to the old bookcase. I never thought once, that we both could be so happy. She is in the kitchen, cooking something special she said. I don't know just what it is, but it smells really good. I just brought in more wood to get warm, and dry for later. The lake has spots of small ice on it, and with the reflecting sun on the ice, makes it looks like dozens of small rainbows twisting, and turning with the wind and current.


Lunch is ready, she calls. As I go into the kitchen I get a funny feeling, I cant put my finger on it as i sit at the counter she brings me my lunch, and whispers in my ear, surprise, close your eyes and smell. Do you remember? As I close my eyes and inhale deeply, I am shocked to find myself thinking of the first time we met. A picture her flying for cover behind the couch,with her black silken hair flowing wildly through the air, and bingo! It is the same as the first meal we ever had together. She smiles, and nuzzles my neck. Do you remember? she asks. Oh yes I remember, do we really have time for lunch? She Simply smiles and takes my hand then asks, shower first, and then... yes and then hot coco? That would be nice silk, that would be very nice. This cabin has magic in it. That magic you ask? Well that magic only comes from one person her name is simply.. Silk! My love, My life, My friend, Silk, a woman of amazing grace, talent, and most of all, Love.

Perfect Morning

 The morning sun is up thirty minutes ago. Just a bit of morning dew on the grass, and the deck table. I have a old Terrie cloth towel to wipe off the dew from the table, and my old captains chair. Yes, that will do, that's dry enough for what I want.

 The sun is peeking through the old maple, and buckeye tree leaves, spotting the deck, and table with rainbows of light. As I walk back into the house for a hot cup of Irish tea, with a touch of sugar, and grab a book, and magazine. My buddy, old bear dog (half Rottweiler half German Shepard) wants to go with me. He gives me that look, I can not refuse. You know that look. The one that begs to go with you, and makes you feel like a heel if you don't let him go with you. So out we go, just me, and my bud.  

 As he busts down the steps looking for a squirrel to chase, I set my tea, and books down, then head back in to get me some toast, and homemade grape jelly with real cow butter. Nothing beats that for a morning treat.  

The morning air is sweet, and crisp. The lilacs, and tulip trees, are in full bloom, making the air sweet. I have catnip, and lemon balm growing by the steps, that also lend a sweetness, and tart crispness to the mix. Bear is done wolfing, and looking for the squirrel that torments him, and the wife while she is trying to relax, and read in the mornings. It shucks the husk off the walnuts right above her head, and chatters at the dog just to have his morning fun.

 Some day, I will get that furry little knot head, and bear can get his revenge at last. But for now, its just me, and my bud, enjoying this beautiful morning. I think we might go fishing a while after bit, we have nothing else to do today, and that sounds like a lot of fun.
You just have to love a perfect morning, they don't last that long, or come around everyday.

Just A Piece Of Cloth

Several years ago, I was reading a local paper, and in it they had a column that a woman had written called (after all) In this column, she had written about the American flag being burned. She had made the statement that we should not be upset because, after all it was just a piece of cloth, and this was just freedom of expression. This had upset me greatly, and others as well. To burn the American flag, was in my view very wrong. The flag is our national symbol of freedom. The following is how I responded to her published comments.


To the editor: Hello Cindy R. On reading your column, you have made some very valid points. I however do not agree with you, as is my right. I am 50 years old. When I was in school the first thing we did (before we opened our books) was to say the pledge of allegiance. This instilled pride in us, and gave us a feeling of just how great we are as a nation. It also helped us to remember what we fought, and were fighting for, and still fight for today. You do remember the words, don't you? Here, let me refresh your memory. It goes like this.


I pledge allegiance to the flag of the united states of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, One Nation under God indivisible with Liberty and Justice for All.


The pledge allegiance. Liberty and Justice for all, what a concept that is, but we no longer say that in our schools, such a shame. However, we now have children being taught in school that it is okay to burn the flag. That it is okay to tear away at the government, threaten teachers, spit on law enforcement, steal from someone for no reason just because they feel like it. Hey, I don't like the sound your voice teacher, are you try to mess with my fragile Ego? Please forgive me, sorry I raised my voice to you child. This happens in our schools all the time. Ask any teacher when is the last time the corrected a child without fear of being reprimanded for it. LETS GET REAL FOLKS!!

I cannot for life of me find it in my heart to stand by and let someone burn the flag. Burn the flag in front of me and you just as well call the doctor and the sheriff with the cuffs. Because UNLIKE YOU I WONT TURN AWAY. I will stomp that person in the ground. My son's, my grandchildren, my family, and hundreds of thousands of people like me, have made a choice to support that cloth.

I can just hear you now, what Neanderthal jerk that guy is. Well Cindy, like you said, that is my right. Let's take your comment about the flag in context quote from the papers last five lines quote (on second thought I think everyone who has fought for freedom under our flag was fighting for what the flag represents, not for the piece of cloth itself. If people look at it that way how can they take it personally when the cloth is just desecrated) UN quote.

Cindy let me ask you this. Have you seen a dying man clutch that piece of cloth, to gather his strength from the cloth, and charge the enemy to win the day? Or, have you see that cloth at the top of the hill, and and one man stands alone defending that cloth with his last breath as the enemy tears that cloth from his dying grasp. Have you ever seen someone buried with full military honors, and that cloth is laid across his or her casket till at the end, After the final taps are played, and the rifles crack 21 times that cloth is given to the survivors. Have you ever wondered just why on Memorial Day that millions of little that cloth are put on the graves of vets? I will give you a clue it's not for the fun of it.

Cindy, I Must confess to you, that I find it hard, very, very, hard to believe that you have any pride in your country, your home, or yourself. I can understand not wanting to get involved. For by becoming involved, God forbid, you have to make a choice between turning your head or standing up for what is right I understand it's easy to turn away from things that you just don't want to see.

But ask your self this, that vet in the wheelchair that caught some frag in his back who will never walk again, when that cloth is burned how do they feel the widow the orphaned the man or woman who still waits not knowing their fate of a loved one who is MIA now let's see.... Now most vets from World War I are dead a few are still around from World War II Korea Oh.. that was just the police action Vietnam? OH WHO THE HECK CARES !!! CLOSE MY EYES AND IT WILL BE ALRIGHT. Never mind Honor, Discipline, Character, Common Sense, Bravery, Sacrifice. We need to forget that, and be politically correct.

Morally right, Legally right, Politically correct, to pray or not to pray? Such choices are times hard to make. But made they must be. If by some remote chance I may have stirred some feeling deep down, their is yet hope for this world. But, if not I would like to take one last try.

Ask yourself:

If the American flag is (just a piece of cloth) that is OK to burn, why should we then get upset if a Bible is burned? Or how about the Declaration of Independence? All the books of one kind or another that you find, that is disagreeable. Hitler did that, and people like you turned a blind eye. They thought, like you. I DON'T WANT TO MAKE A CHOICE after all... on second thought, ITS JUST A PIECE OF PAPER.


Just a note from the author:

As I type this out, I have one last note for you. Food for thought, so to speak.

Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) was a great author in his time. His writing of Tom Sawyer is a great book, and I have a first edition given to me by my grandmother, when I was eight years old. His wording, and story, tell of America's past, both good, and bad, and reminds us just how far we have came as a country. Now, because of our times, it is not politically correct to read this book in school as it was written. Such a shame! It is now being rewritten to be politically correct so our children can read it in schools.

Funny? I thought great works of litterateur were to teach our children to grow. At least my grandchildren, and great grandchildren will be able to read the UNCENSORED VERSION.

I wonder who is next? Shakespeare comes to mind, Romeo and Juliet ? Oh wait, to late, its been made a movie.

The Three Women in My Life

Any man who is married, to be happy must have three women in his life. That's right, I said Three Women. Now don't get me wrong, just let me explain what I mean.
First is the wife, the mother of your children, the schedule keeper, and the housewife. She makes sure you have all you need for the day with a smile, did you forget anything, I love you, and a kiss.

The Second is your lover. She is full of passion, and loves you with all her heart. She would do anything you ask of her without question, knowing that pleasing you is the most important thing in her life, and trusts that you would never wrong her no matter what happens.

The third is your friend. You can tell her anything. You can sit for hours and talk about what bothers you, how your week went, your triumph's, and your disappointment's. Or you can talk about nothing much at all. You know she will listen and understand.

Yes, I have three women in my life. Over the years (thirty nine to be exact), I have had the pleasure of knowing, teaching, and learning from all three. It is a curious thing, having these three women in my life. When I got married I never expected the have this happen. The love, Devotion, Comfort, Passion, and Understanding from these three unique, and separate women, is astounding to say the least. Let me give you a example.

My wife Knows exactly what I love to eat, and makes sure I get it when I least Expect it. Oh, yes, and I better eat it because she fixed it special for me, if you get my drift.

Now my lover on the other hand is something else. She can be the most vexing woman in the world just to get me started, and then laugh and get me so hot and bothered I can not help but laugh and hold her close. As I look into her eyes I see the sparkle of devilment, and her deep heated passion of life for me.

Now as to my friend. What can I say? She understands all my moods, and has a kind word of understanding, and hope. She listens to everything, knowing I just need someone to talk to. You know.. I think that's why I love her so much. She never judges me, and always is their when I need to talk.

By now you must think me a terrible cad, cheating so on my wife. But you miss judge me as well as all the men who know about and have the joy of the three women in their lives. Are we wrong to have such joy in our lives? No, we are the lucky ones. For not every man is as lucky as us to have a wife lover and friend in one woman we married. That's right! I am talking about my wife. God I am so, so very lucky that I found her. Or maybe, Just maybe She found me. Either way, I feel blessed.

The Last Leaf

I have often wondered throughout my life what it would be like to be the last leaf on the tree so to speak. Now in the Autumn of my years growing nearer, I come to realize that it is no fun to be the last. You have no one to talk to about the things you know about. Moreover no one cares, or can relate to what you are talking about. I come from a small town and most of the people I knew are long buried that includes some of my class mates in school.

A gas station owner George, strange man with the gift for gab, always had time to talk, and gave me the best financial advice as a boy. Freddy, he would say, If you ever want to have any money when you get older, pay yourself first. A dollar a day, and in twenty or thirty years you will be amazed at how much you will have. I wish I would have followed that advice. Then the older folks I mowed lawn for,like miss Crouch. Always made the best gooseberry pie with ice cream and black English tea. Or miss Carter, she lived about thirty feet away from the T.P. an W. tracks. Her husband used to work for them as a conductor, and she gave me his old railroad lantern one day, it may have been a bit rusty but it was a great lantern. the lantern had a handle on the back you could hang it from that also. the globe was about six inches tall and five inches across with a concave mirror in the back to shine even brighter. I took it fishing a lot.

And then miss Rosenboom. I will never forget her she could not speak much English. One Christmas her granddaughter wanted to go to church services. Joyce asked me to stay with her while she was gone. I never felt it right that she should miss out so I got a song book and sang Christmas songs to her. I'm not much of a singer but she enjoyed it. Then lets see, Abe Richart had the grocery store, Earhart the sheet metal, Belands the tavern, Leo Shibe the other grocery store, Jim Payton the restaurant, John and Robert Hoffmaster, the hardware store. I will never forget Herman the old guy with the glass eye who worked for bob and john,  William Bruniga Sir the Plymouth garage.

The town main street area was destroyed by a train wreak years and years ago on fathers day. Funny thing though, I remember the town like it was yesterday. I remember the smell of the smelt Fry's on Friday nights at Leo's. The dim street lights with a soft glow all their own bathing the town with a Erie light in the early morning fog. How the curbs were two feet tall, and a concrete ramp at one end of the block that gave you the best thrill riding your bike off of it into the air. The old Texaco station at the junction had a flowing well with the best tasting water and it made your soda sooo.. cold, you would get a brain freeze if you drank it to fast. The old wood floors would creak under foot, and were easy to walk on. Minors idle hour restaurant and bar. Now that place, I learned to shoot pool, and to read peoples actions. And lets not forget the old bank, It was fun to play in. The old T.P.W. depot was a fun place to play. I remember the over sized wooden office chair. The leather seat was torn with stuffing's hanging out, but it still sat comfortable. Sitting in the chair at the telegraphers post you could see both way's. When the train came blasting through, the echo between the elevator and depot was deafening to say the least, but the thrill of being so close to the train and still safe was awesome. Then their was the two grain elevators, and the big corn cribs. My best friend Tony Walker, and me climbed all over in them catching pigeon's. Pigeon's, now that is a story all by its self.

The old stock yards, that was always fun. Barn swallows were so many in that place, and so tame. You could climb the gates, and get within inches of the nest to watch them feed the babies. Back then, we had two of everything in that town for the most part. Two grocery, three restaurants, two bar, two hardware store, two sheet metal, two welding, four gas stations, Shell, Texaco, standard, Sinclair. A feed store, telephone switch board, and post office. And yes, it was a party line.

For the ones reading this, a party line was, every one in town was hooked up to a switch board operator who controlled all town calls. You had a certain ring like two shorts and a long and you answered. BUT... if you wanted to know what was going on in your block you waited till the other person picked up then listened in. I caught a good whipping if I made noise while mom was listening in on someone. Now times, most cordless phones can be picked up with a older scanner. Yes, my mother has a older scanner, and still listens.

The last leaf. I wonder.. I guess that means we have lived longer than most and remember the more simpler, and trusting times, before the world got so, Oh so , very crazy. Know what? I have knowledge and memory's of a lost world. When things get hectic, and others are lost, I can find comfort in the knowledge of the past remembering simple times and passing on what I have learned to my grandchildren. It just May be I am Not the last leaf after all. Passing on my knowledge to my grandchildren, will make them the last leaf on a fading tree of the past.

Thought's of Love

We all say at one time or another to that special someone I LOVE YOU. But, in retrospect, to fully understand just what those three words mean, you must feel the truth of the spoken words. I find that the meaning has just as many uses as your clothes!

While some may say it to gain favor, others use it as a temporary promise of devotion. Still, others will use it as a crutch, or use it to gain a means to a end. The list is endless and ever changing. Now days, it is strewn about as often as needed to gain what is needed without any real or imagined meaning of purpose.
It is truly a sad state of affair's. Now days, men, and women, change partners as often as changing their clothing. Why? Well, that is hard to explain. In the past (I Love You) meant something. It meant that you felt strongly about that person, and wanted to spend the rest of your life with them. It was a commitment you made to that special person, and never wavered from. If you got sick your partner was their for you. If disaster struck neither of you bailed out, you stuck it out together. Not the case today! If something goes wrong someone will bail out for greener pastures. such is life and times now days.

The other day I was helping a friend, and heard a young boy on a cell phone to his girl. As the conversation went on, he said, I love you too. I asked him later, do you really love her? His reply threw me for a loop. He stated yes, yes I do. I love her very much. Your only 15 years old, how do you know what love really is? Well, he said, I cant stand to be without her. She makes me feel good just to have her around next to me. I feel sad knowing she is sick. And if that's not enough, the touch of her hand on my neck makes me shiver. And, I think that I would give my life to keep her safe from harm.

Woe, woe hold up. do you really mean that? Sure, why not? I think she feels the same as me. How many other girls have you felt this way about? None, my other girlfriends all left as soon as my money was gone. She doesn't care about money just me.

What a treat, to have a fresh outlook for a change. I very rarely have a chance to see the positive side. Maybe, just maybe, the world is changing for the better. He is only 15, but still has the righ idea. If only a very few at a time change, one can only hope it will get better.

Regrets of Life

It seems just the other day my life started. Have you ever felt that way? Felt that time has some how slipped by you to the point you are now at. That you have missed the use of your life. A fact of life is you are born, you live, then pass. Most folks feel cheated, that time has passed so very quickly for them. In truth, that just was never the case.

Time is time! The thing that matters is what you do with the time you have. You can waste it away, or you can live it to the fullest. Simple, right? Well.... yes and no. The real question is what you want from life. Some must always seek a challenge, while others are content with sitting back and letting life happen. Still, others are never satisfied. The only regret I have, is that I could not spend more time with my family and other's in need of help.

Still all in all I have had my fun, and lived the best I can. I provided for my family and helped others the best that I could. I guess that says a lot for my life. Still... I wish I could do more.

I was thinking the other day about time and how we as humans perceive time itself. A old saying goes like this. Yesterday is the past, Tomorrow is the future. But,today is a gift that is why it is called the present. I thought to myself and decided this.

I am not going to dwell on the past or worry about the future. The past is gone and can not be changed and the future doesn't exist. All we ever have is in front of us right now this very instant, and it is always now. So we should be content and at peace with that.

Regrets? No.just a lot of wonderful memories. After all, isn't that what we end up with when all is said and done? As we take our last breath all we can take with us is our life's memories. Sweet or Bitter, that is all we can take with us. As for me... I choose to remember the Sweet.

The Voice

Many years ago in the gray early morning hours, I found myself past the pleasure's of drinking the night away. I was in need of a rest as the dew settled on the fresh green carpet of grass, My new found friend and I had gotten very drunk that night. As we sat and conversed, with my head felling like it was about to explode we were interrupted.
I heard a sound. A sound so sweet and and gentle. A sound so alluring and gentle, I was completely mesmerized by it. My pounding head started to ease, and I was caught in its soft tender web of rhythm. A musical melody you ask? No, such a sound can not be produced by a mere instrument. I was in panic, and loosing control of my very will. In my altered state of consciousness, the sound blended my very thoughts. It was so sweet, so soft, that i started to envision myself at peace. I tried to fight the overwhelming draw,but in the end I was consumed by it. As I turned to face this compelling sound I found what was producing the sound was even more enchanting.

It was about five foot tall, and covered with a dark heavy blue cloth, to shield it from the morning chill. A ivory colored top was exposed as a hood fell back, then, a long soft entanglement of bright copper red hair flowed down her shoulders to almost her waist. A young woman standing on her fathers porch, looking with concern at her brother and I. She asked if I would like something to eat, and I replied yes, yes I would, thank you. Would you like some coffee, she asked. No thank you. I would take some tea if you have it though. Great she said, I like tea also.
As she busied herself cooking and making the tea, I watched her with great interest. she was three years younger than me, with a nice figure from what I could see. She was full Irish, you could see that in her freckled face, and bright red hair. As she served me breakfast, we sat and talked. After we had eaten,she offered me the couch to rest on till I felt better. I excepted with many thanks.

When I awoke several hours later, I looked over to find her curled up in a large chair across the room watching me so I would not fall of the couch. We talked some more, then I left , with the promise I would be back to see her again. Little did I know that this was the start of many adventures we would have together.
We have been married thirty eight years now. And that young girl with the fire red hair is older now. Her fire red hair has turned to amber. We have both grown older, but I still see that young girl on her fathers porch calling to me. A perfect vision for the rest of my life. It is rather funny in a way. Thirty eight years later, when I look at her, I still see that fiery red headed girl. If I am very lucky it will be the last thing I see when I close my eyes for the last time.

Heros Lost

When I was a kid I had many hero's. My dad, the lone ranger,sky king,the old man on the poster saying I want you,JFK, Mr.king, yes I was a 60's kid. We needed hero's then, to help us see the good we could do as individuals. A hero then could make us want to change the world for the better, and we knew we could if we just tried. We could sing to the wind, and knew in our hearts we would someday fly to the stars. All we had to do was dream, and be bold enough to take up the torch. To dream the dream of greatness, and act on that dream, that alone, that, was all we needed.

But someplace along the line, we lost our way. We became lost when our hero's were shot and killed,their mission in life cut short. We forgot what they were saying to us. Our dreams turned into fog. Our minds numb, we lost all our hero's. Forgetting what they taught us, we stumbled blindly in the darkness of our own making.

The world now is the same no matter where you go. War, poverty, famine,hate. city's filled with smog, cars bumper to bumper, gray Sky's, acid rain, a bleak picture indeed. Is it any wonder we grasp for straws? That, we become so hungry for what we lost that we try to create a hero. We see ourselves in comic book hero's.

Are their any real hero's left, or are we just chasing ghosts in the hollow shell of our minds. Can we turn a blind eye to the aging winds that sigh through the trees? Do we dare to forget all who have fallen in the name of freedom, only to rise again, and again, till their last breath slips slowly from life. Why is it so hard to find a hero without want? The song of freedom is strong in everyone. How to be a hero is in us all. Carry the old persons heavy sack, return the purse sitting on the park bench, hold the door for someone. Who knows what a change you can make. To that person you are a hero. A child and her mother came out of a store the other day, the child carrying a helium balloon. The wind tore the balloon loose from the child, and the child was crying. The woman must have thought I was crazy, I told her to wait a minute and I would go get her another one. I was amazed she waited, but she did. As I approached the van the little girl stopped crying and started to smile. I tied the balloon around her wrist then said their you go . The woman wanted to pay me for the balloon, and I said her smile is payment enough. With that left. I felt on top of the world doing that simple thing for that child. After all, being a hero to someone is supposed to feel good. All we need to do is remember. Hero's live forever in our minds. All we need do is to remember to try to help the other person. After all, isn't that what our hero's did? Changing the world one person at a time. We just forgot how. Maybe some day, we will remember. Before it is to late for us all.

The Mind Quest

The Mind Quest

Everything is ,but is not.
Everyone See's but in truth is blind.
A sword that cuts, yet can not cut its self, is like eyes that see but yet are blind.
The mountains themselves are but mountains,
yet to man they are a challenge to overcome.
The universal mother earth loves and nourishes all things,
but she will not lord over that what suckles of her life.
To be without being is the essence of life.
To ebb and flow with the everlasting universe,
is to know strength and weakness.
To be full, you must first be empty and content.
To be wise, you must only open your mind.
All this can be but yet not be.
The morning glory that blooms for but an hour, differs not
at heart, from the giant redwood living a thousand years.
For all things are equal with a open mind.
The flowers depart, and we cry to lose them.
The weeds arrive, and we hate to see them grow.
Yet, both are beauty and life, to the open window's in our mind.
I have found, in truth, all that I am I was.
All that I will be, I am.
My mind is open and flowing, with the cosmos at last.
I no longer have wants or needs.
I have understanding.