I am an ordinary beautiful being.
I am a mundane miracle of creation.
I am a common sacred life.
I am a run-of-the-mill child of God.
Thought #28
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Category Archives: Personal
History PhD
Those who fail to study history are doomed to repeat it.
Those who study history are doomed to watch others repeat it.
Thought #27
Reality is to choice
As wealth is to happiness,
As poverty is to despair,
As grief is to hopelessness,
As danger is to fear,
As struggle is to suffering,
As love is to love.
Almost, But Not, Symmetrical (4)
Family.
We all have them.
Our parents had them.
Our’s inherit from theirs.
We play with them.
Sometimes we indulge them.
Sometimes we regret.
We fight with them.
Sometimes we expel them.
Sometimes reunions are … complex.
Yet…
When we acknowledge,
Without subservience,
Their individuality…
When we honor,
Without worshipping,
Their power…
When we forgive,
Without condoning,
Their mistakes…
When we discipline,
Without anger,
Their transgressions…
When we support,
Without coddling,
Their struggles…
When we praise,
Without semblance,
Their growth…
When we accept,
Without shame,
Their flaws…
When we cherish,
Without limits,
Their totality…
Beauty becomes them.
We become whole with them.
We learn the nature of love.
Demons.
We all have them.
Our parents had them.
Our’s inherit from theirs.
We play with them.
Sometimes we indulge them.
Sometimes we regret.
We fight with them.
Sometimes we expel them.
Sometimes reunions are … complex.
Yet…
When we acknowledge,
Without subservience,
Their individuality…
When we honor,
Without worshipping,
Their power…
When we forgive,
Without condoning,
Their mistakes…
When we discipline,
Without anger,
Their transgressions…
When we support,
Without coddling,
Their struggles…
When we praise,
Without semblance,
Their growth…
When we accept,
Without shame,
Their flaws…
When we cherish,
Without limits,
Their totality…
Beauty becomes them.
We become whole with them.
We learn the nature of love.
Almost, But Not, Symmetrical (3)
Those who enter the cathedral
Through the back door
On their hands and knees
Covered in filth and fleas
And who sit in back
Shaking back and forth
Praying quietly
Tend to look up
As though their lives
Depended on it.
Because it does.
Those who enter the cathedral
Through the front door
On their own two legs
Covered in frocks and finery
And who sit in front
Heads held proud
Proclaiming loudly
Tend to look side-to-side
As though their lives
Depended on it.
Because it does.
A. B. Clarke 