I found my Poem!!

ABOUT CROWS
by John Ciardi

The old crow is getting slow;
the young crow is not.
Of what the young crow does not know,
the old crow knows a lot.
At knowing things,
the old crow is still the young crow’s master.
What does the old crow not know?
How to go faster.
The young crow flies above, below,
and ringsaround the slow old crow.
What does the fast young crow not know?
WHERE TO GO.

With all things, do your very best...

There is scripture in the bible that instruct believers to do the best they possibly can with whatever is infront of them... no matter how great or small it is, we need to put forth all our efforts and work hard at it until it is perfect. Right now... is where I am sewing these words onto my heart and sleeve and continue to do just that. Sometimes it gets hard to continously giving your best all the time, it gets tiring, you just want to give up. However I am reminded I don't have it as bad or difficult as others and that Christ when he was on Earth serving us, he gave His best and even rose from the dead. Wow... how amazing. I love all the lessons, trials, and happy peaceful moments, they are all tools of learning and expanding ones character and personality.

Hope everyone has a productive week! Chin up...

Woven Blankets from around the times

Each day strings together like a woven blanket

however, sometimes the most beautiful wovens become torn

if not handled with care, the woven can shred

and become of no use but be a reminder of what it once stood for

still, even at times of despair and anxiety,

pieces of woven, whether they be from India, Spain, England or China

still have the purpose of keeping the fragile one warm and secure

My woven feels like its shredding from the seams, 

but I do not forget how unique it is... how it still has a purpose

Wow... what a day!

I love life and almost everything it has to offer, but sometimes I can truly get out of sorts. 

Looking through my paper it is obvious that it needs some organizing and styling added to it.

My thesis was along the lines of, a good man is more than what you see on the outside, there are a collective factors that make up the person of a good man, and I believe in the case of O'Connors story, a woman too. Just reflecting, grandmother really brought out the or rather it was easy to see what a good man was not, I could not help but realise that everyone has some good in them its how the cultivate that aspect of human behaviour and turn it into something beautiful. Ms. Frailly mentioned having written to her brother and that they both bring out good and bad out of each other...I see the same for this story and I realise that I want to have a positive effect on people, especially the ones that I love. When we have the ingredients to life and relationships, it is so very important that we combine the right amount of seriousness, silliness, love and firmness which bakes together in the right kind of environment for a life long expense. 

Having said all this, I have to remember to have my points and thesis at the start of each topic sentence and have my paper blend better, like coffee and creamer-- what is it with me with food and drinks! :)

When Peace like a river...

I got out of church this morning and with it being so beautiful outside, could not help but feel like I have walked out of a dark storage room where my mind and sanity was waiting patiently for the sunshine. I'm not sure I like winter so much... unless I find a way to deal with dark and cold days. I love it when the sun comes out, the birds are ready to start their new songs they've been waiting to perform since the winter "break". Everything seems to be coming back to life! However, I know that I am very lucky to be where I am today and also to realize how fortunate I am in having a relatively safe and happy life, where I don't have to worry what happens over my shoulder. This hymn was in mind today... it was written by a man in the early 1900's, when he lost his children as they were traveling across sea in a ship when they unfortunately drowned. The father went to the site on the ocean where his children died, and was inspired with these words from his heart:

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul. 

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul! 

(Chorus)

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul. (Chorus)

Oh Internet Connection! How I adore thee!

I was in La Vida Mocha lapping up my wi-fi... while waiting on my family to pick me up... I had written a 15mins worth of thought and feelings down, when I tried to jazz my post by changing the text... and somehow, deleted all my work! I was a little put out, did not have enough time to write another... so here is the replacement; no where near as interesting as the original.

The main jist of my blog was, I had found a format to follow by and keep my short story simple, but I am having trouble with it sounding eloquent. I feel that it needs a whole lot more work done to it, but we are nearing to the end of the process, I hope we all finish nice and strong! Good luck...