Real development is not leaving things behind, as on a road, but drawing life from them, as on a root.
G. K. Chesterton
My Upstream Life
- “A dead thing can go with the stream, but only a living thing can go against it.” – G.K. Chesterton, The Everlasting Man, 1925
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Monday, January 26, 2015
Monday Muse
Temple
They burned your temple to the ground
Leaving but a few precious remains
Enough though to begin
The rebuilding process
A germ, a gem of an idea
Is all it took
For me to see
A vision of the future
Splendid, glorious
A living testament
To the perspicacity of love
They burned your temple to the ground
Leaving but a few precious remains
Enough though to begin
The rebuilding process
A germ, a gem of an idea
Is all it took
For me to see
A vision of the future
Splendid, glorious
A living testament
To the perspicacity of love
Saturday, January 24, 2015
Monday, January 19, 2015
Monday Muse 3/52
May Days
In the twilight falling
with hints of springtime thunder
I see the undersides of leaves
that bend and sway in evening winds
Standing at my window
watching a cloudy sunset
I can hear the wind through the glass
My heart stirs with each breath
but no message is relayed
except a vague restlessness of
forgotten memories of other windy nights
of other May days.
another older poem.
Sunday, January 18, 2015
It's Friday, I'm in love 2/52
I didn't get home til late last night, and now I have a sort of forced moment of quiet while having my hair done.
Today's(well, yesterday's) thing I love is my new planner. My sister convinced me to get one. I love organizing things. Keeping them organized has always been the bigger issue. But i find sitting and organizing, sorting, to be therapeutic. It helps my ever busy brain take a moment to focus.
Sunday Songs 3/52
i was reminded recently that although I don't know what is written on the pages of my life, there is Someone who does. And trusting in that brings the greatest peace.
Saturday, January 17, 2015
Saturday says 3/52
A friend is one to whom one may pour out the contents of one's heart, chaff and grain together, knowing that gentle hands will take and sift it, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away.
George Eliot
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