We, the Teachers

We all are
each other’s teachers
sharing life’s experiences
with acceptance
we are one
with our ever loving Creator

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Pride Born of Hurt

I don’t need anybody!
Is our self-sufficiency
the result of needs seldom met?
Did we depend on others
only to be disappointed
again and again?
We became determined
to never ask for help.
Our vulnerability
protected by pride born of hurt.

We must come to the place of sorrow,
tears and despair
to be ready to give up
our prideful self-sufficiency.
Humbly ask for help.
Our Creator stands ready
but we must ask–each time.

How many times I have
struggled with a problem
and not remembered
to ask for help,
until broken from the weight
of this boulder,
I whisper, “Dear God,
please help me!”

Those sweet word
will free us from bondage
imposed by our own false pride.
“Please help me.”
“Thank you!”
are all that we need
for the hands and heart
of God to give us the
gift of life lived in peace.

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The Game

The final countdown,
the clock ticks the last move
in the game of life we all play.
Second by second, the hand moves
around the clock until the whistle
is blown, the game ends, and
we head home, victors or not. We
played our best and that is all that
counts in the end.

Life viewed as a game takes away
the sting when we fall. We scramble
to our feel and try again, enjoying
each moment to the ed. We all wear
gold medal,s shiny with effort, circles
entwining into eternity, hands joined,
arms raised in a salute to lives well lived.

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Fatal Power of Indifference

It is not anger that I fear,
nor sorrow. What looms before
me is the possibility of
indifference, of being so
stagnant that even a feverant
prayer eludes me, not even a
tiny whisper can escape this
motionless indifference.

My pride makes it worse. Do
I seek others who have known
this trial? Oh, no, my need
to be superior, to not look
weak makes my indifference
swallow me into the belly
of the whale.

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Unheard Prayers

Your prayer falls unheard
for it is not within its time.
First you must make yourself
ready. How can a drowning man
be rescued before he goes
into the water?

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What remains the same
in this world of change?
What can I hang on to in
the kaleidoscope called “life?”

The river rushes
forward, sweeping me
along, grasping at rocks
and branches that batter
and bruise me. I can not
swim against the current,
though I fight it with
all of my might.

Then I surrender,
become one with the flow,
skimming the surface of
delight, changing my form
but not my substance,
for who I am is the one
constant in my life.

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Making Sense of Life

Alice in Wonderland

Alice in Wonderland (Photo credit: brooklyn tyger)

Doesn’t make sense,
this thing called, “life.”
Alice and I have fallen
down the rabbit hole
where up is down and
down is up. Time speeds
on, but does not exist.

Who am I?
Where am I?
What am I?

Clap your hands,
turn around three times,
make a wish on yonder star,
for soon you will discover
who you are.

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