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To Walk
To walk when you fear to keep going
To stand when you long to lie down
To believe when there's no way of knowing
To seek when there's naught to be found
To live with regrets without bending
To love without hope of return
To begin when you don't know the ending
To give a hundred times more than you earn
To smile when you doubt about living
To laugh when you'd like to despair
To forgive when you're filled with misgiving
To survive when none seem to care
To try when success is a stranger
To persist when strength disappears
To confront the threatening dangers
To challenge a lifetime of fears
To look till you find what you're after
To search earth and the vastness above
To trust in the power of laughter
And the final victory of love
James Kavanaugh
Wild Nights--Wild Nights!
Wild Nights--Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile--the Winds--
To a Heart in port--
Done with the Compass--
Done with the Chart!
Rowing in Eden--
Ah, the Sea!
Might I but moor--Tonight--
In Thee!
Emily Dickinson
For This Is Wisdom
For this is Wisdom; to love and live,
To take what Fate, or the Gods, may give,
To ask no question, to make no prayer,
To kiss the lips and caress the hair,
Speed passion's ebb as you greet its flow,--
To have,--to hold,--and,--in time,--let go!
Laurence Hope
(from The Teak Forest)
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other one, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost
Of Love
(from the Prophet)
Then said Almitra, Speak to us of Love.
And he raised his head and looked upon
the people, and there fell a stillness upon
them. And with a great voice he said:
When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions
may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he
Crucify you. Even as he is for your growth
So is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your heightand
caresses your tenderest branches that quiver
in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and
shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that
you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that
you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that
knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.
But in your fear you would seek only
love's peace and love's pleasures,
Then it is better for you that you cover your
nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh,
but not all of your laughter, and weep,
but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes
naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
When you love you should not say,
"God is in my heart" but rather,
"I am in the heart of God."
And think not you can direct the course of love,
for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no desire but to fulfil itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires,
let theses be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook
that sings its melody to the night.
To know the painof too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart
and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved
in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
Kahlil Gibran
Poetry
On Dancing in Leaves
Perhaps Another Tomorrow
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