Monday, May 30, 2005
Memoria Day Poem by: Rod McKuen www.rodmckuen.comGo to his site and check it out. You can also buy his books there. He is my favorite poet! PARADING THE COLORS Red should not always stand for bloodnot even that spilled by our fathers and our sonsin the great parade of wars with numbers one. two. three? Red is a sunset color a painted desert dye the color of the Arizona plains and at certain times, the West Virginia sky. Pride and purity may use the color white. But snow-topped Colorado Mountains, ice across the Great Lakes in December and Alaska every day of wintertime claimed the color first. Not to mention that long strand of sandy Utah and every Massachusetts / California beach. So many uniform are blue that we forgot the Truckee and the Mississippi blue sky ocean to ocean, blue ocean sky to sky. Atlantic and Pacific have always been not green but blue. I know my history lessons, I learned them well that this nation to become a nation ran forward into battle shouting freedom! And often bore the tattered tri-color home againfor men to mend and start another battle new. I am aware that flagmakers make new fortunes every Veterans / Decoration Day, and broken bodies bathed in canvas and the stars and stripes have slid off ten thousand ships maybe twenty thousand more, to rest upon the bottom of the mother sea. Excelsior at Iwo Jima. Bully at Bull Run. A step for man and mankind murmured on the moon Peace with honor... somewhere. Mothers of dead sons have pride. Me too. But I would rather paint my colors on a bright balloon -children then would wave at me and chase my shadow. Old men who sit at tables making wars Do not do so in my name again. It has taken me two hundred years to come down to this place. I have earned the right to see red, white, and blue not on a battered standard borne in battle but on my brother’s face. I love my flag. To me it stands for love kindness even to my enemy and most of all, for brotherhood.
Sunday, May 22, 2005
Travelin' Soldier By: Dixie Chicks Two days past eighteen He was waitin' for the bus in his army greens Sat down in a booth at a café there Gave his order to the girl with a bow in her hair He's a little shy so she gave him a smile So he said would you mind sittin' down for a while And talkin' to me I'm feelin' a little low She said I'm off in an hour and I know where we can go So they went down and they sat on the pier He said I bet you got a boyfriend but I don't care I've got no one to send a letter to Would you mind if I sent one back here to you? I cried Never gonna hold the hand of another guy Too young for him they told her Waitin' for the love of the travelin' soldier Our love will never end Waitin' for the soldier to come back again Never more to be alone When the letter says a soldier's coming home So the letters came From an army camp In California then Vietnam And he told his heart It might be love And all of the things he was so scared of Said when it's gettin kinda rough over here I think about that day sittin' down at the pier And close my eyes and see your pretty smile Now don't worry but I won't be able to write for a while I cried Never gonna hold the hand of another guy Too young for him they told her Waitin' for the love of the travelin' soldier Our love will never end Waitin' for the soldier to come back again Never more to be alone When the letter says a soldier's coming home One Friday night at a football game The Lord's Prayer said and the anthem sang A man said folks would you bow your heads For the list of local Vietnam dead Cryin' all alone under the stands Was the piccolo player in the marching band And one name read and no one really cared But a pretty little girl with a bow in her hair I cried Never gonna hold the hand of another guy Too young for him they told her Waitin' for the love of the travelin' soldier Our love will never end Waitin' for the soldier to come back again Never more to be alone When the letter says a soldier's coming home * Memorial Day is coming up and I think this song says a lot about the spirit of the young men & women who were shipped off to Vietnam and never came home alive. Some came home and were tramatized by the experience of war in a very diferent place with rice patties and proverty. We should honor and support these heroes. We should also honor and pray for the loved ones they left behind. It is sad that the soldiers who came home were dishonored by protests. They were called and they serviced. God bless all the fallen and walking travelin soldiers...
Friday, May 20, 2005
Mustard Seed By: Nancy G. Brundrett This life is a long journey my friend I can always see it coming around the bend Can't always be the easy way Best things in life a sacrifice you must pay Isn't it good for us to know? His spirit lives within the hungry soul There to help guide us and always stay To save us and heal us everyday I know that joy comes in the morning I always love to read those words Dark is the hour right before the dawn Here comes the light and our troubles are gone Faith can be a hard road sometimes Easy for everyone, but ourselves But it's the human need That only God can feed And in my hand is a mustard seed That's all I need, that's all I need Nothing shall be impossible The power within to move mountains Faith as a grain of mustard seed That’s all I need A mustard seed www.nancy-heartmusic.com
NOTABLE MIRACLE By: Nancy G. Brundrett Here you come to me walking on the water And you fill me up with your love If it wasn't for your light I'd be swallowed by the night And all my soul can say is All is well I'm your notable miracle Filled with unspeakable joy It's my desire for you to take me higher Up above the trees, flying in the sky Piercing through the clouds Touching every sunrise And all my soul can say is All is well I'm your notable miracle Filled with unspeakable joy You ascended into the heavens Promising the victory over death and the grave Even though I wasn't there and didn't see You filled my heart with the fullness of your grace And all my soul can say is All is well I'm your notable miracle Filled with unspeakable joy Unspeakable joy pouring down from above Your touch gives me peace like a morning dove Your favor raining down on my soul I'm your notable miracle www.nancy-heartmusic.com
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Speak to Us of Children From the book the Prophet By: Kahlil Gibran 1923 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 yeaterday. 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.
The Prophet By: Kahlil Gibran 1923 "Then Almitra spoke again and said, And what of Marriage, master? And he answered saying: You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore. You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days. Aye, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God. But let there be spaces in your togetherness, And let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another but make not a bond of love: Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls. Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup. Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf. Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone, Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music. Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping. For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts. And stand together, yet not too near together: For the pillars of the temple stand apart, And the oak tree and the cypress grown not in each other's shadow."
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