This Will Help to Heal Hearts


Humans around the world have been shocked, saddened and feeling grief. We are all brothers and sisters and we share this one beautiful planet. We all feel pain and grief in the same way and we are grieving in our individual ways.

 

These barbaric attacks bring negative energy to this world we all share.  I heard this and it is one of my favorite songs and one Whitney Houston sang in the movie, the Bodyguard.  This young child has the ability to touch our hearts and lift them up some from pain and death. May God bless him during his life and may all feel the power of love as you listen to him.

 

Please take the love you feel and pass it on to someone else and may the Jihadists know we will rise up. We are the human race and we will oppose every negative thing they do. Also, as we love each other, we love them too. They are also God’s children and we are expected to love all of God’s children. Make no mistake, we will work to stop them in every move they make.  But love is still our best weapon, and we will use it against them, by loving them anyway.

 

Namaste, Barbara, the Idealistic Rebel

 

 

 

 

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My Personal Heroine, May Sarton


ritual of selfblessing

May Sarton is a woman who lived in New England. She was a writer, journalist, and poet. She has written many great novels which I have always found to be a delight to read.Her poetry sings from the heart. Her journals take you to a place when you need to think about new perceptions and to think about talking to other women. You can get her books at your local library.

Now I Become Myself  

May Sarton

Now I become myself. It’s taken

Time, many years and places;

I have dissolved and shaken,

Worn other people’s faces,

Run madly, as if Time were there,

Terrible old, crying a warning,

“Hurry, you will be dead before—-“

( What? Before you  reach the morning?

Or the end of the poem is clear?

Or love safe in the walled city?)

Now to stand still, to be here,

Feel my own weight and destiny!

The black shadow on the paper

Is my hand, the shadow of a word

As thought shapes the shaper

Falls heavy on the page, is heard

All fuses now, falls into place

From wish to action, ,word to silence,

My work, my love, my love, my time, my face

Gathered into one intense

Gesture of growing like a plant.

As slowly as the ripening fruit

Fertile, detached, and always spent,

Falls but does not exhaust the root,

So all the poem is, can give,

Grows in me to become the song,

Made so and rooted so by love

New there is time and Time is young.

O, in this single hour I live

All of myself and do not move.

I, the pursued, who madly ran,

Stand still, stand still, and stop the sun.”

to be beautifulto beyourself