Saturday, February 26, 2011


Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)


TELL me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream ! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real ! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal ;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way ;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle !
Be a hero in the strife !

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant !
Let the dead Past bury its dead !
Act,— act in the living Present !
Heart within, and God o'erhead !

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time ;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate ;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

RUDYARD KIPLING    1865-1936

Monday, February 21, 2011


A Romance Novel

He grasped me firmly but gently just above my elbow and guided me into a room, his room. Then he quietly shut the door and we were alone. He approached me soundlessly, from behind, and spoke in a low, reassuring voice close to my ear. "Just relax." Without warning, he reached down and I felt his strong, calloused hands start at my ankles, gently probing, and moving upward along my calves slowly but steadily. My breath caught in my throat. I knew I should be afraid, but somehow I didn't care. His touch was so experienced, so sure. When his hands moved up onto my thighs, I gave a slight shudder, and partly closed my eyes. My pulse was pounding. I felt his knowing fingers caress my abdomen, my ribcage. And then, as he cupped my firm, full breasts in his hands, I inhaled sharply. Probing, searching, knowing what he wanted, he brought his hands to my shoulders, slid them down my tingling spine and into the waist of my panties. Although I knew nothing about this man, I felt oddly trusting and expectant.

This is a man, I thought. A man used to taking charge. A man not used to taking `no' for an answer. A man who would tell me what he wanted. A man who would look into my soul and say ...

"Okay, ma'am," said a voice. "All done." "You can board your flight now."


Saturday, February 5, 2011

Beauty in the World

Heavenletter #3725 Published on: February 5, 2011

God said:

There is so much glory in the extant world. Music, art, nature, sunlight, stars. Keep your eyes and ears on the beauty of the world. There is enough of it. There is enough to last you a lifetime or more.

For what is the privilege of seeing even one night of stars worth? One dawn, one setting sun. The sun on a lake. Stars on a lake. Love in eyes.

You are so surrounded in beauty that you may be spoiled.

One blade of grass. One tree. One hill, one dale.

Keep your pulse on the beauty of the Universe.

I created beauty. And, you, human beings, have continued to create it right along with Me. Why would you create anything else?

Why would you deplore anything when there is such radiance in the world to be in awe of?

How important are inconveniences when there is sky above and ground below?

Perhaps your attention has been caught on dust in the house and news on television. Go outside then. Fortunate is a person who lives outside where there is more to see, and vision is greater. Outside, you can even spend a day twirling and looking at a dandelion. When there is such a hardy thing as a dandelion, all must be right with the world.

Consider that the world is a feast spread out before you. You can take anything you want. Everyone can even take the same thing. Who would choose trash?

Every day you have that choice of what to take from the world. Take beauty. Take joy. Take love. Leave whatever doesn’t please you. There is enough glory to go around.

It must be that sometimes you get focused on what is not right with the world, and you forget everything else. You don’t see the forest for the trees. The trees may be the details to life that you find tiresome. Never mind inconveniences. Never mind even conveniences. What is a dishwasher next to bright summer rain? Get out of the house. Kiss the air that greets you outside. All the world is a park, beloveds. Didn’t you know that?

Let Us have not even one moment of grumbling. No grumbling out loud or even under your breath. How can you grumble when there is creation everywhere? Let the glory of life be your focus. Forget about price tags and a broken floor tile. Step up to the life you always wanted. I am telling you that you have it. It is all here. Claim it. Derail everything that you do not claim. Do not mutter about it.

Embrace creation. It is for you. Look up at the sun. Look up at the stars. You have had enough attention on where your feet have trodden. You have carried enough burdens up and down the stairs. Look up through the skylight. Look up and light up the world. Let your gaze light up the world.

Love life. You can. Why don’t you? How can you not be eager to get up in the morning? Throw off the covers. Leap out of bed. Greet the day as this great guest that it is. Have a wonderful day. Have a wondrous day. Make the day wondrous for all.

And, if today, clouds cover the sun, then you be the sun. You be the light of day. Be the daybreak. Be the sun coming up over the horizon. Be the bright sun. Light up the world. Let the world be seen in all its shining glory. What are you waiting for? Get up and greet the day as you have never greeted it before. Bless the world today, and you have blessed it.

Friday, February 4, 2011

Heaven is not an exclusive club

The exclusionist in religion does not see that he shuts the door of heaven on himself, in striving to shut out others.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

you make me laugh

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Like the present

Life isn't tied with a bow,
but it's still a gift.