Rocks
Take some time to stop and look at nature. Pick up a rock or two and think about where it might have started out and what it might have gone through to end up where you found it.
Rocks
The smoothest rock is the one
that was in the roughest part
of the stream,
where it was tossed to and fro,
bouncing from rock to rock
or tree branch,
losing a little of its roughness
with each bang,
until gradually it comes to rest
in the calm, quiet sand
at the edge of the stream.
When you pick it up
and feel its smoothness
you can feel the vibrations
of its tumultuous journey
and know that
despite the troubles you now face,
you too will come to a calm
and quiet place,
your rough edges smoothed,
and you will grant peace
to those who hold you close.
The energy you contain
will speak to their hearts and minds
and calm them,
and they will realize
that they too can have this peace,
if only they will trust
that God has their best interests at heart.
We seek out the smooth stones
because we know that they
can easily skip across the surface
of the water for a great distance.
Those with rough edges
quickly sink to the bottom -
they have no longevity.
A good "skipping stone" is a great find indeed.
For it is in the heart of the stone
that the strength is found.
The outside edges are weak
and break off easily,
but the centre becomes purer
and more durable
as the roughness is ground away.
So too our inner core
becomes more durable
as our rough edges
are smoothed.
Copyright Fran Watson February 2005
Fran Watson
http://www.franwatson.ca
http://www.diet-basics.org
http://www.moremoney4u.org
MORE RESOURCES:
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 Sydney Morning Herald | Politics needs poetry – so hooray for Herman Van Rompuy guardian.co.uk First let me say this: on balance, I would far rather that people in politics were writing poetry than not. Where are the poets in the House of Commons? ... EU snub for Blair is bad news for Ireland Profile: Herman Van Rompuy: eu's new president ROMPUY ROMPS IT |
 Irish Times | Brown professor wins national poetry award Providence Journal AP / Tina Fineberg The night before he won the National Book Award for poetry for his experimental work, “Transcendental Studies: A Trilogy,” ... Providence Poet Wins National Book Award Novelist Colum mccann wins book award Colum mccann wins major US fiction prize |
 Spicezee | GCU resonates with Faiz's poetry Daily Times Prof Dr Nabeela Kayani of the English Department presented a paper, describing Faiz as a pillar of Urdu poetry. Faiz rejected fascism, she said, ... Faiz's poetry - a beacon of light for oppressed GCU pays tribute to Faiz “Faiz was a revolution who is evergreen” |
Pick-Up Lines In Rome: Sexual Harassment Or Poetry? Huffington Post (blog) It was a beautiful summer day and that sentence was a joyful verse of poetry. I wasn't at all offended by it: it felt more like a serenade rather than a ... |
Poem of the day – Death of a little girl StarNewsOnline.com A PLACE FOR YOU TO SHARE YOUR POETRY, ANYTIME, ANYWHERE. Welcome to our online community of poets! I am an aspiring poet myself and would love for us to ... |
Enjoy Poetry, Plays and Even Santa's Elves The Ledger THE ARTS, POETRY & CRAFTS FESTIVAL is planned for today in Lakeland. Along with the art exhibit, there will be poetry readings, face painting, entertainment ... |
Poetry with a passion Honolulu Advertiser This was the venue for October's First Thursday Slam Poetry event. Over 25 poets read their work. Poems ranged from graphic to heart-wrenching to beat ... |
Medford students to read poetry, show art during Navy concert Dec. 4 Medford Transcript Anne Thompson, professor emeritus at Bates College, conducted two poetry workshops on Nov. 11 at the chamber office. About 30 students from grades 3 to 6 ... |
Cowboy poetry gathering at Whitman center Grand Junction Sentinel Two days of poetry, music and stories will fill the Whitman Education Center for the Grand Junction Cowboy Poetry Gathering. The Museum of Western Colorado ... Cowboy poets gather for weekend performances |
Google News
Africa
AFRICA(to africans in diaspora)africa here i come, africaafrica of the black soul the soul of an ancient culture the culture of your timid tribes.its your voice i hear africa your voice of the talking drumsyour beaded drums and the royal trumpeterthe metal gong of your town crieri have come to see your music dance i have heard of your ageless minstrelshave i not heard of your swinging hips!i have heard enough and have come to watchwouldn't you dance for me africaafrica here i come africa would you not show me to your tribesthe timid tribes of your sweetened tongues the varied tongues of your virtuous menafrica, black soul africa tell me about your gods your gods of the sky and of the mother earthyour gods of the hills and of the rivers aboundshow me to your kings africayour kings of the ancient dynastythe ancient dynasty of rusted spear and shieldafrica, here i come africaHEAVENLY GUESTheavenly guest heralding thunderously in its own awakepelting on men as well, the godsgathering itself drop by drop.
Sleep, Dreams, and a Poem
The Incubus' Flash-lightHe looked inside my headAnd found a dreamHe didn't like-;As I looked back at him,I found an incubus Shinning a light(and stole this poem fromhim-last night).Thoughts: Dreams and Poetry: in dreams we let go of our inhibitions; in poetry we write them back out.
Expressing an Emotion - The Art of Writing Poetry
Writing poetry is an art, a way of expression, finding meaning in few words. A melody of passion flowing out onto the pages, words that flow into each other and yet express the inner most thoughts and feelings of those who read the words.
Five Poems
Poems have different cores, or so I believe, and can only be structured well for certain figurative language-heart beats; like all counselors are not made for all clients, so all poems are not made for the same person, or purpose; when we read we all have our likes and dislikes; I do not necessarily know what poetry is per se, but I do know what the greatness of poetry has, and great poetry is close to an illusion?it carries an echo I do believe-figurative yes, at best, and questionable yes, by far. Here are five poems I've recently wrote, all with a different core, focus and style.
Little Girl from Huancayo [a poem/in English and Spanish]
Little girl from HuancayoDo you really, really know?Just how fast those feet will grow,On the streets of Huancayo.Little girl with jumping jacksOn the street, looking back;Back to see whose watching her,A little boy with a bird.
Since Youve Been Gone...
My life has changedin so so many waysIt seems to always bein a state of disarray..
Way of Life: Rhymes of the Inca [four poems: see in Spanish and English NOW!]
Way of Life: Rhymes of the IncaPizarro(Spanish conquistador ((1525))The blind follow the blindThe dumb follow the foolBut the cleaver, like 'Pizarro,'(who could not read or write)Followed human-nature?And ruled the Inca world!Thus, Atahualpa was Beheaded out of pride and Indolence-: one might say,And ignorance ruled? .Note: don Francisco Pizarro #689 5/27/05Cepeda the Sly[Lima, Per-l546 AD]Cepeda the Sly-, judge With two sides; one false,One pride-both mixed with lies.
Opposites Do Attract Quite Well
When I am climbing up, you are stepping down.When I wear a smile, you wear a frown.
I Shall Wait...
I Shall Wait..
Joined
JOINEDHeart beat of manpounding - yet unheardjoined becomes thebeat of a nation.Words of man written - yetunreadjoinedbecomes a proclamation.
Listen as I Share: WE
You speak simple, completley understandablejustificationsI respect them, respect you, honor what you tell meand even though I know where you're coming from,I just wanted to share with you, let you hear:my heart..
The Power of Eating Disorders
I want to get closeI am afraid.Afraid of what you might see.
Life is a Fantasy
LIFE IS A FANTASY!A pink-eyed rabbit, fuzzy whiteHops in bedrooms filled with frightA child of six with much to knowHer father's basest feelings showShe knows of LOVE, only through himHe satisfies his every whimHe leaves, she wipes himfrom her chin!Her mother NEEDS to see the bestHe answered her God requestTo have a roof to comfort bringA yard where all the birdies singTell me how she could really knowWhat source for learning could she go?Her mother regularly beaten if not worseThe cycle of violence - a woman's curseConflicting visions, dependenciesOne can endure many idiosyncrasiesShe could not make him defendant beDenial, avoidance? she disbelievesThe rabbit hides beneath tall trees.At thirteen a step-grandfatha'Finds a well-trained girl that oughta'Do what powerful men requestNever knowing what is bestAnd run away she does at lastFreedom can be such a 'blast'A rabbit's foot upon a chainThe FANTASY her 'safe' domainHow long in life must it remain?To protect her from these menWho always for her lips, do 'yen'A state trooper in Tennessee Like every other man does see Her lips so full and luscious red Through the bars, not in a bed.
Top 20 Poetry Quotations
Explore the meaning of poetry and the motivation of poets with this special collection of evocative quotations..
Two Poems with Triggers [and a commentary]
So Many Einstein'sThe morning mist, insists there is a God.The earth remains faithful to its orbit.
Farewell to Lester Graybill
I never met a man, who could shake my hand, and make my heart feel like a hearth afire.I never met a man, who could smile so easy, real honest.
Because of You
You are to me my lifelinemy security.That scares me.
Kafka Re-Trial
Kafka lands resurrected in Crewedeposited by a silvery alien craft,And whilst he is wondering what to doHe is asked to show his passOr pay an instant one off fineAt a cash dispenser of his choiceAnd they are checking all the timeOn his irises face and voice.And of course they find that he is not,They discover he just cannot be there,Although he seems as if he is visible,And has hands and toes and hair,If he is not on the Great Data Bank,He plainly and simply cannot be,He is not listed and he is not rankedHe is surely not like you and me.
Ocean Heal Me
Ocean Heal MeOcean heal my woundsLet your waves curl and foam on my bodyWash away blood, heal scarsOcean renew me with your powerAs unceasingly you rollGiving strength that's been drainedOcean keep me warmWrap me in your brineCaress me with your tidesOcean disperse my tearsAs they flow in youI cleanse my soulOcean let me grow in your depthsColor me vibrant blue, coral, greenClear = revitalizedOcean your spray anoints meCool and refreshedMy spiritual renewalOcean be my friendHold me flowing in your currentsEver moving, ever changingOcean, heal me. 1983 Susan BaconSusan Bacon is a researcher, author and teacher.
House of the Goblin [Part Two of Three/with notes]
House of the Goblin[Part Two of Three]Here is where, where the air is stillAnd the mountains shadows disappear!Here is where, unnumbered spirits dwellWhere harp and memory expire?Where the rainbow-leaps, from itsStoreroom-keep, and cries; And the sands along the oceans coastEcho then die?as in sleep?;And where enchantment turns into ghouls!..
