"The wings of a mother, like those of Angels, have the capacity to spread across the sky; shelter from storms; radiate respite; provide peace; soothe the soul and lift one up again and again in love.
Florence Ondré
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Sunday, May 09, 2010
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Quote For The Day & The Gratitude Pool
“”Now more than ever the receptors are open for those who couldn’t hear it before. So fill the air with love as you, I know, always have.”
Ed Barisano
Ed Barisano
Friday, August 03, 2007
Quote For The Day
“There is no disguise that can for long conceal love where it exists or simulate it where it does not.”
Francois de La Rochefoucauld
Francois de La Rochefoucauld
Monday, February 19, 2007
Quote For The Day
“To find a person who will love you for no reason, and to shower that person with reasons, that is the ultimate happiness.”
Robert Brault, software developer, writer (1938- )
Robert Brault, software developer, writer (1938- )
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
A Valentine Vision
A Valentine Vision
February 14th, 2007
Happy Valentines Day!
Today, I was stuck indoors with a fractured foot, feeling like love was the last thing on my list. A 40 to 50 mile an hour winds off the ocean Nor’easter has covered our world with ice; transformed pavement into skating avenues and frozen every outside form into fantastical sculptures. Looking out my windows, there was startling beauty and life unexpected popping into vision, which I realized was meant to share. Here is what I saw…
Close your eyes and picture this Valentine Vision Gift for you:
Ice encrusted branches of crystal limbs of hedges with red berries…each one a Ruby in a Diamond ice ball; all gracefully dancing in the wind, and, in the solid ice branches of the leafless Maple tree, one bright red Cardinal alights to sing a snowy song of Valentine hello to remind you that you are loved.
Many Blessings in Light and Love,
Florence Ondré
February 14th, 2007
Happy Valentines Day!
Today, I was stuck indoors with a fractured foot, feeling like love was the last thing on my list. A 40 to 50 mile an hour winds off the ocean Nor’easter has covered our world with ice; transformed pavement into skating avenues and frozen every outside form into fantastical sculptures. Looking out my windows, there was startling beauty and life unexpected popping into vision, which I realized was meant to share. Here is what I saw…
Close your eyes and picture this Valentine Vision Gift for you:
Ice encrusted branches of crystal limbs of hedges with red berries…each one a Ruby in a Diamond ice ball; all gracefully dancing in the wind, and, in the solid ice branches of the leafless Maple tree, one bright red Cardinal alights to sing a snowy song of Valentine hello to remind you that you are loved.
Many Blessings in Light and Love,
Florence Ondré
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
The Gratitude Pool
by Florence Ondré
I'm grateful for good friends who can really hear me. I cherish those who can simply say, "Tell me your pain; your struggle. I will hear you with my heart and not judge you or fix you."
I'm blessed with friends who I do not always agree with nor them me and yet they come when I am in need like lemmings who cannot keep themselves from the cry of crashing.
It is like their heart ears are so attuned to my energy that when there is a breach therein, they feel it in its voids or reverberations in the Universe. Their divine sensitivity allows them to sense ripples disturbing my usual positive demeanor and outlook. They hear my heart clenching or closing in on wounds to my spirit and nature and they heed the call; each in their own blessing way.
Perhaps a call or side conversation when we are alone to check in with me and not let me get away without a reality check and a bit of the balm of unconditional love.
They drop their other plans and meet me at restaurants, parks or grottos to be there for me; to listen, to hear and to hold me gently in light.
They check in to see if I'm viewing myself as a victim and remind me with their light of love that I am capable, worthy of good treatment in the world and able to leap tall shadows in as many bounds as is right for me.
They say to their mates, "I know we had plans, dear, but my friend needs me right now. I want to be there for her," in much the same way I say it when it's their turns to need soul food nourishment. The mates don't mind. They have honor for friends who are there in the crunches. By extension, those others become part of a healing team whether they know it or not. They too are part of a circle of unconditional love and healing... a soothing to my soul.
In this circle, we know we each can stand on our own two feet and figure things out for ourselves. We acknowledge and applaud that dignity. We know that no one can walk our paths for us or change our feelings and we also know that we make rough roads a bit smoother to travel by the extending our hands of help in the simple, profound gift of hearing.
I love these sensitives and am blessed to call them friend.
I'm grateful for good friends who can really hear me. I cherish those who can simply say, "Tell me your pain; your struggle. I will hear you with my heart and not judge you or fix you."
I'm blessed with friends who I do not always agree with nor them me and yet they come when I am in need like lemmings who cannot keep themselves from the cry of crashing.
It is like their heart ears are so attuned to my energy that when there is a breach therein, they feel it in its voids or reverberations in the Universe. Their divine sensitivity allows them to sense ripples disturbing my usual positive demeanor and outlook. They hear my heart clenching or closing in on wounds to my spirit and nature and they heed the call; each in their own blessing way.
Perhaps a call or side conversation when we are alone to check in with me and not let me get away without a reality check and a bit of the balm of unconditional love.
They drop their other plans and meet me at restaurants, parks or grottos to be there for me; to listen, to hear and to hold me gently in light.
They check in to see if I'm viewing myself as a victim and remind me with their light of love that I am capable, worthy of good treatment in the world and able to leap tall shadows in as many bounds as is right for me.
They say to their mates, "I know we had plans, dear, but my friend needs me right now. I want to be there for her," in much the same way I say it when it's their turns to need soul food nourishment. The mates don't mind. They have honor for friends who are there in the crunches. By extension, those others become part of a healing team whether they know it or not. They too are part of a circle of unconditional love and healing... a soothing to my soul.
In this circle, we know we each can stand on our own two feet and figure things out for ourselves. We acknowledge and applaud that dignity. We know that no one can walk our paths for us or change our feelings and we also know that we make rough roads a bit smoother to travel by the extending our hands of help in the simple, profound gift of hearing.
I love these sensitives and am blessed to call them friend.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
A Rose By Any Other Name...
by Florence Ondré
"Oh, honey, I heard you making sleepy noises last night. You sounded soooo cute!"
That was my body's gasping for life breath during the night of sleep; also known as the little death.
Isn't it humorous how love can change even the worst gargling sounds into coos; the most unimaginable ralings into adorable traits and the human body's hoots and toots into something to chuckle about?!
Whistles, eeks and squeaks and pit stop rests in between ee aws and lip quavering brrrs are anything but cute folks.
Let's be honest here...it's snoring!
Plain and simple, not too attractive noise that rocks and rolls the house, shakes the bed and rattles your bones!
It's serious stuff. People can stop breathing. You can lose loved ones - from your sleeping quarters and your life. (Isn't there a box under the 'cause' heading you can check nowadays when filing for divorce that says, "Irreconcilable Snoring?")
Can you remember a time when you thought, "Oh, it's not me. It's only the other person who makes those silly sounds?" And now, here you find yourself facing the stone cold, hard truth....It's you!!!!!!!
You've become the in-residence noisemaker.
How could that have happened? You've been dainty all your life and now you are in the buzz saw category without so much as a by-your-leave from the Gods!
Here's what you've come to in life:
The only saving grace is that you have someone who loves you who thinks you're making 'sleepy noises'...and you're cute.
"Oh, honey, I heard you making sleepy noises last night. You sounded soooo cute!"
That was my body's gasping for life breath during the night of sleep; also known as the little death.
Isn't it humorous how love can change even the worst gargling sounds into coos; the most unimaginable ralings into adorable traits and the human body's hoots and toots into something to chuckle about?!
Whistles, eeks and squeaks and pit stop rests in between ee aws and lip quavering brrrs are anything but cute folks.
Let's be honest here...it's snoring!
Plain and simple, not too attractive noise that rocks and rolls the house, shakes the bed and rattles your bones!
It's serious stuff. People can stop breathing. You can lose loved ones - from your sleeping quarters and your life. (Isn't there a box under the 'cause' heading you can check nowadays when filing for divorce that says, "Irreconcilable Snoring?")
Can you remember a time when you thought, "Oh, it's not me. It's only the other person who makes those silly sounds?" And now, here you find yourself facing the stone cold, hard truth....It's you!!!!!!!
You've become the in-residence noisemaker.
How could that have happened? You've been dainty all your life and now you are in the buzz saw category without so much as a by-your-leave from the Gods!
Here's what you've come to in life:
The only saving grace is that you have someone who loves you who thinks you're making 'sleepy noises'...and you're cute.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Quote For The Day
“The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along.”
Jalal ad-Din Rumi (Persian Poet and Mystic, 1207-1273)
Jalal ad-Din Rumi (Persian Poet and Mystic, 1207-1273)
Friday, November 24, 2006
The Gratitude Pool: A Grain Of Gratitude
Happy Thanksgiving to you!
May you each and all find one thing for which to be grateful. For on the worst of days, one small bit of gratitude can lift you higher than you can imagine; ease the largest pain and calm the most riotous mind.
Such is the power of a grain of gratitude.
Blessings In Light and Love,
Florence Ondré
May you each and all find one thing for which to be grateful. For on the worst of days, one small bit of gratitude can lift you higher than you can imagine; ease the largest pain and calm the most riotous mind.
Such is the power of a grain of gratitude.
Blessings In Light and Love,
Florence Ondré
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Quote For The Day
"I will not play at tug o' war. / I'd rather play at hug o' war, / Where everyone hugs instead of tugs."
Shel Silverstein, writer (1930-1999)
Shel Silverstein, writer (1930-1999)
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Friday, November 03, 2006
The Power Of Music and Friends
Remember the phrase, "been down so long it looks like up to me?"
Well, on that long elevator ride up from the depth of the doldrums, there are several tools for uplifting which rival the rising contrivance Otis made available to us dwellers of many levels.
Consumed with whatever present challenge currently puts our lights out; makes us feel like there's not much bright in tomorrow, feeds the mistaken, gerbil-cage-spinning thoughts that there will never be any way to rise through to some distant above.
Life after chemical contamination, added to physical and daily life challenges has constructed a new basement in the house of me.
It's no view from a bridge, I can tell you. Waist level looks like the Himalayas and a knee high breeze is enough to fell me.
Bed and couch grab me; suck me in with a siren call as the energy of coping flails and flags.
This is coming from a person who can find the proverbial pony in a room full of horse pocky or a ray of sunshine in a gunmetal grey overhead.
The season of change has lingered long and life’s menu is crowded with less than palate pleasing entrees of passings, crises, catastrophes, calamities, leaderless leadership, hell for health and weird weather.
A new book of grief is being written in the Akashic records like acid etchings on our hearts.
And yet when I can move myself off flattened to floor to peek in my toolkit, the lamp of hope glimmers, however dimming, enough to shed light on the bottom of the bag for me to see a friend or two, hear music, or glimpse an Angel waiting patiently for its moment to be of service.
Last night was one of those rare eves of enlightened moments, strung together like sparkling precious gems in moonlight of a black velvet sky.
My partner and I pushed past pain and frustration to get out the door to go meet our friend, Heide, in the city for dinner before seeing out of town friends perform a recital of classical music for piano and violin.
We were like trains converging from different tracks; she coming from work in Manhattan and us schlepping in hours of traffic from the suburbs to the city, yet all of us thinking a sigh, unbeknownst to the others, "I can get through it all. At least at the end of this day there will be lovely, soothing music."
Concerned with the pain of sitting too long with a spinal disc out of alignment, Tom was thinking an added, "At least there will be Thai food."
He dropped me off at the restaurant, a pleasant, simple aromatic space. Good sign. If you can smell the cooking pulling you in, disembodied on the waves of fragrant spices, you generally have a good inkling that there will be some pleasure, however fleeting, ameliorating the hammer on the anvil.
Heide was waiting, already at a table laid out with menus, water and welcoming energy.
Tom drove off to find his precious on-street parking to which his Angels guide him, mostly with a few turns around the block to whet his appetite for the reward of perfect space for patience.
It didn't take long for us to dive into hugs, catching up, in depth conversation that only comes with the deep connection of ageless family-of-choice; and Lemongrass Chicken, Tamarind Duck, Massaman Curry, fresh Basil Rolls and Curry Puff Pastry. Over aromatic tea, spirits lifted out of a seemingly bottomless basement of depression to the first and second floors of rays of relief.
Then off we cabbed to the concert.
My excitement at seeing and hearing the dear friends, who years ago came into my life through another mutual friend to accompany my singing at her San Francisco wedding, mounted as we entered the hall.
Added to that was my child-like delight at finally introducing them to my beloved, Tom, and sister in light, Heide, who only knew the pianist, Nancy, through G-Mail, our years-old, online circle of gratitude.
They'd come to know one another in the unique focus on expressing thanks each day and yet had not met face to face. I was giggly with glee at the prospect of connecting the dots of these Angels in my life.
Up the cubicle-with-floor-indicators rose another level.
Next there was meeting concert pianist, Gila Goldstein, President of the New York chapter of the American Liszt Society, who was bringing us all together in the completion of her task of arranging this concert.
Warm in e-mail and welcoming in person, she shone with a lilting light of her own as she introduced the evening's program.
Another half floor fell away with a glide.
In the next moment, there were my friends, suited and soft velvet, glammed up, sharing center stage only feet in front of me after so many years.
I could barely contain my elation.
“How could she be more glamorous or he sweeter faced with the passage of time?" I thought as she adjusted her seat, poised her hands over the ebony and ivory keys and he lifted bow to string for their opening volley of an earfest of magical proportions.
It took me practically the entire first selection to get through the joy and awe radiating through me on the round robin of musical notes and words spinning round my head, “These are my friends making this magnificent music!”
Glancing at Heide and Tom gave me smiling confirmation that they were well on the enjoyment elevator.
I gave myself over completely to the sensuous sounds of the rhythms, chords and melodious march of the music.
Jose Cueto, making a single, shaped box of wood sound like several sets of sensational strings and Nancy Roldan, flying across keys tinkling soft light and roaring waves to carry us to heights we’d forgotten possible; ascended our glass elevator to the Heavens. The César Franck Sonata in A major, allegretto ben moderato, brought us to heart overflowing, eye-brimming tears.
I breathed in the music like air.
Playing together and each taking solo turns, they wound an evening of joyous healing; uplifting energy to float us out of our seats, bodies and earthly cares; transporting us on the alae of the magic of music beyond dreaming.
Ground fell away, roof disappeared and a stunning recognition of profound gifts put to use obscured daily denseness and debilitation.
Aha! I realized in the afterglow of crescendo into echoes and applause to silence; in the hugs and hellos and later gathering at a nearby restaurant, sharing fellowship, food and fun; not only was I not out of tools, the ones in the bottom of the bag were far beyond fine.
I looked around the long table at the happy faces of old friends and new; each haloed in a pool of soft, golden light; 12 of us joined later by 1 to make a brilliant baker’s dozen; trading funny tales; exchanging enjoyment of work; talking music, art, life- and saw Angels on Earth.
Friendship, music, good conversation shared over robust bread dipped in rich olive oil, sparkling water and wine, laughter and the warm energy of being together; gifts shared. With the recognition of these, it is possible to lift out of down in the dark; to be balanced by light which constructs our escalator elite; our stairway to Heaven and metamorphoses a lift into a transcendevator.
With these illuminating implements, in the tiers of the skyscraper of us, it’s not that far from the basement to the penthouse.
On the power of music and the feathers of love of our Earth Angels whom we call friends, it is possible to soar with new wings.
For cds and further information on the concert piano and violin talents of Nancy Roldan and José Miguel Cuerto, please visit www.nancyroldan.com
For further information on the American Liszt Society, please visit http://www.americanlisztsociety.org
For further information on Gila Goldstein, please visit www.gilagoldstein.com
Well, on that long elevator ride up from the depth of the doldrums, there are several tools for uplifting which rival the rising contrivance Otis made available to us dwellers of many levels.
Consumed with whatever present challenge currently puts our lights out; makes us feel like there's not much bright in tomorrow, feeds the mistaken, gerbil-cage-spinning thoughts that there will never be any way to rise through to some distant above.
Life after chemical contamination, added to physical and daily life challenges has constructed a new basement in the house of me.
It's no view from a bridge, I can tell you. Waist level looks like the Himalayas and a knee high breeze is enough to fell me.
Bed and couch grab me; suck me in with a siren call as the energy of coping flails and flags.
This is coming from a person who can find the proverbial pony in a room full of horse pocky or a ray of sunshine in a gunmetal grey overhead.
The season of change has lingered long and life’s menu is crowded with less than palate pleasing entrees of passings, crises, catastrophes, calamities, leaderless leadership, hell for health and weird weather.
A new book of grief is being written in the Akashic records like acid etchings on our hearts.
And yet when I can move myself off flattened to floor to peek in my toolkit, the lamp of hope glimmers, however dimming, enough to shed light on the bottom of the bag for me to see a friend or two, hear music, or glimpse an Angel waiting patiently for its moment to be of service.
Last night was one of those rare eves of enlightened moments, strung together like sparkling precious gems in moonlight of a black velvet sky.
My partner and I pushed past pain and frustration to get out the door to go meet our friend, Heide, in the city for dinner before seeing out of town friends perform a recital of classical music for piano and violin.
We were like trains converging from different tracks; she coming from work in Manhattan and us schlepping in hours of traffic from the suburbs to the city, yet all of us thinking a sigh, unbeknownst to the others, "I can get through it all. At least at the end of this day there will be lovely, soothing music."
Concerned with the pain of sitting too long with a spinal disc out of alignment, Tom was thinking an added, "At least there will be Thai food."
He dropped me off at the restaurant, a pleasant, simple aromatic space. Good sign. If you can smell the cooking pulling you in, disembodied on the waves of fragrant spices, you generally have a good inkling that there will be some pleasure, however fleeting, ameliorating the hammer on the anvil.
Heide was waiting, already at a table laid out with menus, water and welcoming energy.
Tom drove off to find his precious on-street parking to which his Angels guide him, mostly with a few turns around the block to whet his appetite for the reward of perfect space for patience.
It didn't take long for us to dive into hugs, catching up, in depth conversation that only comes with the deep connection of ageless family-of-choice; and Lemongrass Chicken, Tamarind Duck, Massaman Curry, fresh Basil Rolls and Curry Puff Pastry. Over aromatic tea, spirits lifted out of a seemingly bottomless basement of depression to the first and second floors of rays of relief.
Then off we cabbed to the concert.
My excitement at seeing and hearing the dear friends, who years ago came into my life through another mutual friend to accompany my singing at her San Francisco wedding, mounted as we entered the hall.
Added to that was my child-like delight at finally introducing them to my beloved, Tom, and sister in light, Heide, who only knew the pianist, Nancy, through G-Mail, our years-old, online circle of gratitude.
They'd come to know one another in the unique focus on expressing thanks each day and yet had not met face to face. I was giggly with glee at the prospect of connecting the dots of these Angels in my life.
Up the cubicle-with-floor-indicators rose another level.
Next there was meeting concert pianist, Gila Goldstein, President of the New York chapter of the American Liszt Society, who was bringing us all together in the completion of her task of arranging this concert.
Warm in e-mail and welcoming in person, she shone with a lilting light of her own as she introduced the evening's program.
Another half floor fell away with a glide.
In the next moment, there were my friends, suited and soft velvet, glammed up, sharing center stage only feet in front of me after so many years.
I could barely contain my elation.
“How could she be more glamorous or he sweeter faced with the passage of time?" I thought as she adjusted her seat, poised her hands over the ebony and ivory keys and he lifted bow to string for their opening volley of an earfest of magical proportions.
It took me practically the entire first selection to get through the joy and awe radiating through me on the round robin of musical notes and words spinning round my head, “These are my friends making this magnificent music!”
Glancing at Heide and Tom gave me smiling confirmation that they were well on the enjoyment elevator.
I gave myself over completely to the sensuous sounds of the rhythms, chords and melodious march of the music.
Jose Cueto, making a single, shaped box of wood sound like several sets of sensational strings and Nancy Roldan, flying across keys tinkling soft light and roaring waves to carry us to heights we’d forgotten possible; ascended our glass elevator to the Heavens. The César Franck Sonata in A major, allegretto ben moderato, brought us to heart overflowing, eye-brimming tears.
I breathed in the music like air.
Playing together and each taking solo turns, they wound an evening of joyous healing; uplifting energy to float us out of our seats, bodies and earthly cares; transporting us on the alae of the magic of music beyond dreaming.
Ground fell away, roof disappeared and a stunning recognition of profound gifts put to use obscured daily denseness and debilitation.
Aha! I realized in the afterglow of crescendo into echoes and applause to silence; in the hugs and hellos and later gathering at a nearby restaurant, sharing fellowship, food and fun; not only was I not out of tools, the ones in the bottom of the bag were far beyond fine.
I looked around the long table at the happy faces of old friends and new; each haloed in a pool of soft, golden light; 12 of us joined later by 1 to make a brilliant baker’s dozen; trading funny tales; exchanging enjoyment of work; talking music, art, life- and saw Angels on Earth.
Friendship, music, good conversation shared over robust bread dipped in rich olive oil, sparkling water and wine, laughter and the warm energy of being together; gifts shared. With the recognition of these, it is possible to lift out of down in the dark; to be balanced by light which constructs our escalator elite; our stairway to Heaven and metamorphoses a lift into a transcendevator.
With these illuminating implements, in the tiers of the skyscraper of us, it’s not that far from the basement to the penthouse.
On the power of music and the feathers of love of our Earth Angels whom we call friends, it is possible to soar with new wings.
For cds and further information on the concert piano and violin talents of Nancy Roldan and José Miguel Cuerto, please visit www.nancyroldan.com
For further information on the American Liszt Society, please visit http://www.americanlisztsociety.org
For further information on Gila Goldstein, please visit www.gilagoldstein.com
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Monday, October 30, 2006
The Gratitude Pool: HugSpread
In any language, hugs are a symbol of caring, humanity's good, an opportunity to touch and be touched in a world where these are suspect and sometimes dangerous.
I thank those who dared to stand out in the crowd of what we've become in our own lives: passersby.
These generous, risk taking souls remind us that, regardless of where we live in the world, what language we speak, what our beliefs, age, gender, race; we are connected. Our energy responds with delight each time we heed the human need for wholesome, good touch.
It's what we give our kids and then tell them not to accept from strangers. For safety's sake, we teach our kids discretion, discernment and self caring, which is a good thing. And it sticks with us for the rest of our lives; sometimes past the expiration date of childhood's years. Just watch as adult people walk by as if they didn't see this unusual person with the Free Hugs sign. Watch as they reconsider, go back, give a tentative half hug and journey on lighter and happier with kid smiles on former focused, serious faces. Watch how surprised they can be at how good they feel.
The joy is contagious. Feeling better for the human touch; given safely, freely with no restraints from the heart, sparks that connective, happy energy inside of each receiver till they become givers too. Watch some folks, big and small, really get into it with the abandon of the joy of the child alive and well and living inside each of us who breathe on this planet.
Watch the fun of it all turn to peace and a unity of spirit. It's a circle of light.
Not a bad exchange for a couple of moments spent taking a chance on hugs!
Think I'm going to go out and hug a tree today too. An exchange of living, breathing appreciative energy that feeds the soul of both giver and receiver. That's good energy too.
For free yet, already!
I thank those who dared to stand out in the crowd of what we've become in our own lives: passersby.
These generous, risk taking souls remind us that, regardless of where we live in the world, what language we speak, what our beliefs, age, gender, race; we are connected. Our energy responds with delight each time we heed the human need for wholesome, good touch.
It's what we give our kids and then tell them not to accept from strangers. For safety's sake, we teach our kids discretion, discernment and self caring, which is a good thing. And it sticks with us for the rest of our lives; sometimes past the expiration date of childhood's years. Just watch as adult people walk by as if they didn't see this unusual person with the Free Hugs sign. Watch as they reconsider, go back, give a tentative half hug and journey on lighter and happier with kid smiles on former focused, serious faces. Watch how surprised they can be at how good they feel.
The joy is contagious. Feeling better for the human touch; given safely, freely with no restraints from the heart, sparks that connective, happy energy inside of each receiver till they become givers too. Watch some folks, big and small, really get into it with the abandon of the joy of the child alive and well and living inside each of us who breathe on this planet.
Watch the fun of it all turn to peace and a unity of spirit. It's a circle of light.
Not a bad exchange for a couple of moments spent taking a chance on hugs!
Think I'm going to go out and hug a tree today too. An exchange of living, breathing appreciative energy that feeds the soul of both giver and receiver. That's good energy too.
For free yet, already!
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Monday, October 23, 2006
Judgment In Relationships
by
Florence Ondré
(excepted from "Less Thorns; More Roses" c. 1997)
Relationship where judgment rules
Launch to sea this ship of fools
One if by land, two if by sea
This view of you, that view of me
Few can truly stay the brave
To smoothly sail relations wave
For in forgetting honoring
Questions go a wandering
Left in their wake are misconcepts
Listing to what’s less than best
Once high thoughts slip down below
Yawing, pitching to and fro
In dazed doldrums dreams decry
Leaving both to wonder why
Ships of relations that seem sound
Easily do run aground.
Florence Ondré
(excepted from "Less Thorns; More Roses" c. 1997)
Relationship where judgment rules
Launch to sea this ship of fools
One if by land, two if by sea
This view of you, that view of me
Few can truly stay the brave
To smoothly sail relations wave
For in forgetting honoring
Questions go a wandering
Left in their wake are misconcepts
Listing to what’s less than best
Once high thoughts slip down below
Yawing, pitching to and fro
In dazed doldrums dreams decry
Leaving both to wonder why
Ships of relations that seem sound
Easily do run aground.
Quote For The Day
“The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.”
Thomas Merton 1915-1968
Thomas Merton 1915-1968
Sunday, October 22, 2006
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