children
Poem of the Day ~ On Children
On Children
Kahlil Gibran
And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, Speak to us of Children.
And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
What if I took my EarPods out of my ears while I walked?
What if I took my EarPods out of my ears while I walked, what would I experience? My, oh my, you’d hear birds singing. You’d hear the wind blowing through the trees. You’d hear dogs barking, kids playing, and the music of life. It’s all there waiting for us to join in. Life celebrating life each moment. There’s music in the sound of men and women working. There’s music in the sounds of children playing games. There’s music all around us. Don’t miss it.
Today’s Poem ~ Any Woman
Any Woman
Katharine Tynan
I am the pillars of the house;
The keystone of the arch am I.
Take me away, and roof and wall
Would fall to ruin me utterly.
The keystone of the arch am I.
Take me away, and roof and wall
Would fall to ruin me utterly.
I am the fire upon the hearth,
I am the light of the good sun,
I am the heat that warms the earth,
Which else were colder than a stone.
At me the children warm their hands;
I am their light of love alive.
Without me cold the hearthstone stands,
Nor could the precious children thrive.
I am the twist that holds together
The children in its sacred ring,
Their knot of love, from whose close tether
No lost child goes a-wandering.
I am the house from floor to roof,
I deck the walls, the board I spread;
I spin the curtains, warp and woof,
And shake the down to be their bed.
I am their wall against all danger,
Their door against the wind and snow,
Thou Whom a woman laid in a manger,
Take me not till the children grow!
Something to Think About
Today I am working on my blog at the public library. There are lots of small children running around. I like their noise. I like their excitement. I like their impatience. Yah, libraries are supposed to be quiet places; however, I’ve not known normal children to be quiet for long stretches of time, or understand they’re supposed to contain their joy of living. They’re good reminders for to enjoy life.
Learning from Children
I see no color.
I see no race.
I see no religion.
I see a friend.
Photo by Edward Cisneros on Unsplash
