Glass Box

I felt exhilirated, happy. You were so near. I could almost reach you.
But as soon as I quickened my pace and started walking towards you, I was blocked by a glass wall.
I tried to reach you through all the directions, then I finally realised that I am trapped. I am trapped in a glass box. I can only see you, not reach you.
Hey, is that a brick in your hands? Please break this box for me.........

Faith Changes

Every moment seemed an hour. Every moment seemed to last for ages. Every crisis seemed to be the end of the world. Emotions were like a roller coaster ride- either too high or too low, too happy ot too sad, too secure or too insecure, too perfect or a disaster. Desperation was on a high.

Faith changes. Really changes. For that matter, even acceptance. Acceptance of the imbalance, of the chaos. There is peace inside now, a blissful calmness. Ability to take one thing at a time. Ability to take each day, each moment at a time. And an all pervasive positivuty inside that says- things do get sorted out eventually.
Edwin Markham has rightfully said-
                                   "For all your days prepare
                                    and meet them ever alike:
                                    When you are the anvil bear,
                                    when you are the hammer strike."

The Philosopher

I saw him sitting in his door,
trembling as old men do;
his house was old, his barn was old,
and yet his eyes seemed new.

His eyes had seen three times my years and kept a twinkle still,
though they had looked at birth and death,
and three graves on a hill.

'I will sit down with you', I said,
'and you will make me wise;'
'Tell me how have you kept the joy
Still burning in you eyes'

Then like an old time orator,
impressively he rose;
'I make the most of all that comes,
The least of all that goes.'

The jingling rhythm of his words
echoes as old songs do,
Yet this has kept his eyes alight,
till he was ninety-two.

-composed by Sara Teasdal.