A bouquet by Beio Dao (1949)-

Between me and the world..
You are a calendar, a compass
A ray of light that slips through the gloom
You are a biographical sketch, a bookmark
A preface that comes to the end.

Between me and the world
You are a gauze curtain, a mist
A lamp shining into my dreams
You are a bamboo flute, a song without words
A closed eyelid carved in stone.
 




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You feel you now have control, don't you?
You think you will walk away untested. I promise that my work will continue. That I have ensured.
You think it is over, but the games have just begun.

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To -- By Percy Shelley (1792-1822)


Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in memory-
Odors, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts,
when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
 




____________
You feel you now have control, don't you?
You think you will walk away untested. I promise that my work will continue. That I have ensured.
You think it is over, but the games have just begun.

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"THOUGHTS OF THANKS"

We must be thankful for each day we see,
Whether it brings happiness or sorrow.
No matter what our status be,
For there may be no tomorrow.
Give thanks to God for your existence,
Through good times and through bad.
Thank HIM for your common sense,
For this and more, you should be glad
 




____________
You feel you now have control, don't you?
You think you will walk away untested. I promise that my work will continue. That I have ensured.
You think it is over, but the games have just begun.

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A Leaf by Bronislaw Maj (1953 - )

A leaf, one of the last, parts from a maple branch:
it is spinning in the transparent air of October, falls
on a heap of others, stops, fades. No one
admired its entrancing struggle with the wind,
followed its flight, no one will distinguish it now
as it lies among other leaves, no one saw
what I did. I am
the only one.
 




____________
You feel you now have control, don't you?
You think you will walk away untested. I promise that my work will continue. That I have ensured.
You think it is over, but the games have just begun.

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Saints Bowing in the Mountains


Do you know how beautiful you are?

I think not, my dear.

For as you talk of God,

I see great parades with wildly colorful bands

Streaming from your mind and heart,

Carrying wonderful and secret messages

To every corner of this world.

I see saints bowing in the mountains

Hundreds of miles away

To the wonder of sounds

That break into light

From your most common words.

Speak to me of your mother,

Your cousins and your friends.

Tell me of squirrels and birds you know.

Awaken your legion of nightingales—

Let them soar wild and free in the sky.

And begin to sing to God.

Let’s all begin to sing to God!

Do you know how beautiful you are?

I think not, my dear,

Yet Hafiz

Could set you upon a Stage

And worship you forever!
 




____________
You feel you now have control, don't you?
You think you will walk away untested. I promise that my work will continue. That I have ensured.
You think it is over, but the games have just begun.

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A cold dark night, a sea of ice,
A ship out on the ocean,
All fitted out by man's device,
She rode in perfect motion.
A jar, a crash, a fearful clash,
A sound like awful thunder,
The dying groan, the living moan,
As the splendid ship went under.


Out on the sea when the ship went down,
Out where the lifeboats rocked,
Husbands were parted from loving wives,
Captain and sailors, they gave up their lives
Wireless rang with the awful news,
By which the whole world was shocked.
Out on the sea, near Eternity,
Where the angry waters frown,
"Nearer my God" they sang,
Just as the ship went down

The sky grows black, the icebergs crack,
And death hangs o'er the water,
But "Women first!" the orders rang,
For mother and for daughter.
A cry, a shriek, but who can speak?
For then the waters parted,
The sea was cleft; and what was left,
For the living broken hearted
 




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You think it is over, but the games have just begun.

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Return by Robert Creeley

Quiet as is proper for such places;
The street, subdued, half-snow, half-rain,
Endless, but ending in the darkened door.
Indide, they who will be there always,
Quiet as is proper for such people-
Enough for now to be here, and
To know my door is one of these.
 




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You think it is over, but the games have just begun.

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Success


He has achieved success
who has lived well,
laughed often, and loved much;

who has enjoyed the trust of
pure women,

the respect of intelligent men and
the love of little children;

who has filled his niche and accomplished his task;

who has left the world better than he found it
whether by an improved poppy,
a perfect poem or a rescued soul;

who has never lacked appreciation of Earth's beauty
or failed to express it;

who has always looked for the best in others and
given them the best he had;

whose life was an inspiration;
whose memory a benediction.


1904- Bessie Anderson Stanley
 




____________
You feel you now have control, don't you?
You think you will walk away untested. I promise that my work will continue. That I have ensured.
You think it is over, but the games have just begun.

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