Pulchritude

“Unbeing dead isn't being alive.”
― E.E. Cummings

For the many that exist day to day,
awaiting an awakening too late.

For the many dead that I am,
making a waste of fates.

For the darkness way laid,
dissolving and is no more.

*
How's teaching?

A joy, a pain. (the joy outweighs)
Much more to unlearn,
much more to learn
To be and to become.

Be unto me according to Thy will.

Harlequin

The sunshine, the din of conversations, the butterfly duet fluttering around....
the beauty in the commonplace,
the significants in the mundane,
the joy in the toil,
are unfolding in my days.

I took my Literature class for poetry writing by the field.
Yays and boos, excitements blended with dreads as they penned their feelings, seeings and knowings on their paper scraps.

It's wonderful to see them come alive in poetry.

To love with Your love, and not my own. 

Eyre

'There are things we are obliged to observe, such as fireworks, but God uses for the training of His children the things which we have to will to observe, viz., trees, grass & sparrows.'
- Oswald Chambers

No matter how much we hide, our secret thoughts and feelings inevitably surface;
Few things truly matter, when all is stripped away;
The simple joys of being with loved ones - kin, kindred spirits, or even those unexpected opposites;
My desire to travel is ever present, but the wonder of seeing beauties in the most ordinary and commonplace, is splendid.

An increasing knowledge and love of who You are, 
and not what I make you to be.

Frangipani

“Even for me life had its gleams of sunshine.”
― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

There are those changes - obvious, resolute, unmistakable...
then there are those quiet, unassuming ones, that comes unsuspectingly - through a word, gesture, or simple thought...

It's remarkable how some things that meant so much, mean so little now.
Where everything falls into perspective, when our hearts are in the right place - perfectly in Him.

Sear

It’s painful to be detached from the one you love, and love dearly. The physical detachment is trying, but nothing in comparison with the detachment of the heart, where either one or both goes to a place, that refuses the other to follow suit. 
Then, both hearts are left beating weakly, with open wounds of absent love, infested by worms of pride, robbing both of the joy, strength and union of two hearts that beats best together. 

What can you do? What will you do? What will both do and must do. 

To know a Love that goes beyond oneself, again, again and again…always.
None of mine, but grant Your Love from above.