Showing posts with label touching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label touching. Show all posts

"I Choose The Mountain" by Howard Simon


The low lands call 
I am tempted to answer 
They are offering me a free dwelling 
Without having to conquer

The massive mountain makes its move 
Beckoning me to ascend 
A much more difficult path 
To get up the slippery bend

I cannot choose both 
I have a choice to make 
I must be wise 
This will determine my fate

I choose, I choose the mountain 
With all its stress and strain 
Because only by climbing 
Can I rise above the plane

I choose the mountain 
And I will never stop climbing 
I choose the mountain 
And I shall forever be ascending

I choose the mountain

"It Couldn't Be Done" by Edgar A. Guest


Somebody said that it couldn’t be done, 
But, he with a chuckle replied 
That "maybe it couldn’t," but he would be one 
Who wouldn’t say so till he’d tried.

So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin 
On his face. If he worried he hid it. 
He started to sing as he tackled the thing 
That couldn’t be done, and he did it.

Somebody scoffed: "Oh, you’ll never do that; 
At least no one has done it"; 
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat, 
And the first thing we knew he’d begun it.

With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin, 
Without any doubting or quiddit, 
He started to sing as he tackled the thing 
That couldn’t be done, and he did it.

There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
There are thousands to prophesy failure;
There are thousands to point out to you one by one,
The dangers that wait to assail you.

But just buckle it in with a bit of a grin,
Just take off your coat and go to it;
Just start to sing as you tackle the thing
That "couldn't be done" and you'll do it.

Reaching Upwards



It takes just one step at a time
moving forward and upward
but not stopping for a laze
making sure you hear every wise word

Wisdom is the true source of knowledge
without it you lag way behind
your brain cells will get weak
if not fed they'll go blind

Feed the mind with good books
let the intellect soak it in
it'll instil strength to the brain
together they'll make you win

The body also needs strengthened
for the rocky road ahead
to make sure you reach the target
sustaining yourself with strong bread

So keep looking upwards
never lose sight of the goal
keep these feet moving
till you hit the winning pole

© Gordon. All rights reserved

Failed Dreams


My dreams are like a book, way up on the shelf.
Far to high above me, for me to reach myself.
So I form a ladder, each rung a minor goal.
And slowly I get closer, through every step and pull.


But my arms get heavy, and I'm struggling to climb.
The book I thought was easy, is taking too much time.
Maybe it's not worth it, it's taking far too long.
I don't think I can reach it, maybe I was wrong.



And then I see below it, a book almost the same.
A few different colors with a slightly different name.
It's just a little lower, but still up so very high,
This book and the other could be brothers in my eye.



So I resume my climbing, excited at the change,
This one's a bit closer, and easily in range.
But that's quickly fleeting, there's so much more to go,
With all the work I've done I have nothing yet to show.



As I catch my breath, my gaze drops a little more,
who cares if it is lower, I've done it once before.
There's a book a little closer, I go for that instead,
Until the books I'm seeking are right above my head.



I reach out and touch it, and feel a little proud.
Until I look and see, that I'm barely off the ground.
I'm left to sit and wonder, what changed within myself,
As I stare with longing, at the book up on the shelf.
______________________________________________________________

Author Notes

I feel like my goals were set so high when I was a kid and I've steadily lowered them over the years for instant gratification. Now I'm nowhere near where I thought I'd be at and I have no one to blame but my own laziness. Don't lower your expectations because you get frustrated with your progress or get depressed, always give it your all because it's no one else's future but your own.
© Derek. All rights reserved

A Letter From The Little Boy On The Other-Side


Sally jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room. She said: “How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? When can I see him?”

The surgeon said, “I’m sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn’t make it.”

Sally said, “Why do little children get cancer? Doesn’t God care any more? Where were you, God, when my son needed you?”
The surgeon asked, “Would you like some time alone with your son? One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he’s transported to the university.”

Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good-bye to son. She ran her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair.
“Would you like a lock of his hair?” the nurse asked.

Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of the boy’s hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally. The mother said, “It was Jimmy’s idea to donate his body to the university for study. He said it might help somebody else. “I said no at first, but Jimmy said, ‘Mom, I won’t be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom.” She went on, “My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could.”

Sally walked out of Children’s mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy’s belongings on the seat beside her in the car. The drive home was difficult.
It was even harder to enter the empty house. She carried Jimmy’s belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son’s room. She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them. She laid down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep.

It was around midnight when Sally awoke. Laying beside her on the bed was a folded letter. The letter said:

“Dear Mom,

I know you’re going to miss me; but don’t think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just ’cause I’m not around to say I LOVE YOU. I will always love you, Mom, even more with each day.
Someday we will see each other again. Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won’t be so lonely, that’s okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn’t like the same things us boys do. You’ll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know.
Don’t be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything.
The angels are so cool. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn’t look like any of his pictures. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got to sit on God’s knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important.
That’s when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good-bye and everything. But I already knew that wasn’t allowed. Well, you know what Mom? God handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write you this letter. I think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you.
God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked Him ‘Where was He when I needed him?’ “God said He was in the same place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is with all His children.

Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I’ve written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn’t that cool? I have to give God His pen back now. He needs it to write some more names in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I’m, sure the food will be great.

Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don’t hurt anymore. The cancer is all gone. I’m glad because I couldn’t stand that pain anymore and God couldn’t stand to see me hurt so much, either. That’s when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me.
The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that?

Signed with Love from: God, Jesus & Me.”