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Monday, November 28, 2016

"Dark Night"


~Where there is sorrow
there is Holy Ground.

~Oscar Wilde


       On the surface you may be amiable and flexible, but in your Dark Night you may discover the very important ingredient of toughness.  Oscar Wilde provides a good example.  He was a brilliant man who played the role of society's fool and fop.  He dressed as a dandy and had the reputation of being an expert on superficial style. But he was actually nothing of the sort.  Wilde was a thoughtful and religious man, a man of principle who spent years in jail simply on account of his homosexuality.  From prison he wrote one of the most remarkable testaments ever written, De Profundis (Out of the Depths), a letter any person suffering a Dark Night might appreciate. The letter is apropos of our theme:


       I have been in prison for nearly two years. Out of my nature has come wild despair; an abandonment to grief;...terrible and impotent rage;  bitterness and scorn; anguish that wept aloud; misery that could find no voice; sorrow that was dumb...
       Now I find hidden somewhere away in my nature something that tells me nothing in the whole world is meaningless, and suffering least of all.  That something hidden away in my nature, like a treasure in a field, is humility.

~Thomas Moore/
Oscar Wilde


~Beannaichte'
28 November, 2016
@beannaichte.twitter.com


~Oscar Wilde's 'De Profundis' can be found in its entirety, on the Internet, at various sites. It is a spendid essay, and  well worth the reading, especially if you are experiencing  Dark Nights of the Soul.

Sunday, October 30, 2016

" A Mother's Prayer"



~ A Child is born,
Into a world unknown;
A world of beauty, love, and sorrow,
This Child has yet no knowledge of life;
Nor has he fear of tomorrow.

Each day his eyes that watch the Morning Star,
They seem to gain more brightness;
His reaching out into the dark,
Will turn the dark to lightness.

My Heart forever I will share with him,
As I watch over him day by day;
The night Silvered and Silent, watches him rest,
Yet, still I watch over him, and silently pray.

He will wander through life unknowingly,
Many times he will stumble and fall;
But like all of us, yes, all of us,
He will stand again, preparing for the next fall.

My Son, there are so many words to say,
Yet only by living You shall know;
Your Peace of Mind, will feed your Heart,
And only by this can You strongly grow.

~ Alicia O'Hara  c.
30 October, 2016 

@beannaichte.twitter.com 

Tuesday, October 11, 2016

"Grace"

~ Having
Experienced the Pain
of a
Broken Wing,
and having been Healed
by the Mysterious Mercy of God,
we then Fly,
again,
with a
Distinctive
Grace.
~Unknown
~Beannaichte'
11 October, 2016
@beannaichte.twitter.com

Saturday, October 1, 2016

"Autumn Prayer"


Loving God,
I come to you in Thanksgiving,
knowing that Your Love 
never fails.
In Faith and Love, help me to do Your will.
I am listening, Lord God.
Speak your words 
into the depth of my Soul,
that I may hear You clearly.
I offer to You this day all the facets of my Life,
whether at home, at work,
or at school-
to be patient, to be merciful,
to be generous,
and to be Holy.
Give me the Wisdom and Insight
to understand Your will for me;
and the fervor to fulfull my good intentions.
I offer my Gifts of time,
talent, and possessions, to You
and my neighbor.
Help me to reach out to others,
as You, my God,
have reached out
to me.
 
~Amen

~Unknown

~Beannaichte'
1 October, 2016

@beannaichte.twitter.com
             

Sunday, September 25, 2016

"Don't Lose Me in Your Love"



~ Hold me close, but  not  to tightly.
Talk to me, but  hear  my voice.
Warm me, but  do not  smother my dreams.
Cool me, but  do not  freeze my mind.
Protect me, but  do not  stifle my learning.
Help me, but  do not  forget my abilities.
Don't let me be lonely, but accept  when I need to be alone.
Be my love, but  allow  me to be myself.

~Unknown


~ Beannaichte'
25 September, 2016

@beannaichte.twitter.com  

Thursday, September 1, 2016

"Seedroot Visions"

~  In my Life, I never know what is going to transpire. Seeds of possibilities fly like the milkweed pod bursting open, releasing a thousand White Wing Wishes on a blustery autumn wind. Storms for these podmates only dare their bold flights to reach further distances. Touching down to Earth, these seedroot visions Grow even through hard cement cracks or abandoned fields of Dreams. ~Waiting for their bloom, the Monarch Butterflies find the tender shoots in the sidewalks or empty meadows because Life cannot resist itself and there is a Hunger for the Mother's milk Nature gives. There amidst the underbellies of the soft green leaf, a caterpillar Knows.  She Knows. She spins a cocoon streaked with Gold more Precious than metal, for an oncoming Metamorphosis no one can yet see, yet alone believe.  ~ You and I are Spinning for the Future with our Hands. ~ We Know, that it is Time and We are Ready, though we may not yet know how.
~ ALISA STARKWEATHER
U.S.A.

~Beannaichte'
1 September, 2016

@beannaichte.twitter.com

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

"Shadow and Light"


~ For Sharon: I Remember...I Remember.


When the Night is still
And the Sea is calm
Lonely Shadow, you fall on me

Lay by my side
Fear Not tonight
Lonely Shadow, you  find a new Light

Dream a Dream
And see through Angel's eyes
A Place where we can fly away 

Ride with me upon a Shiny Star
Above the Moonlit  Sky
We will find Elysium

Hear the Nightingale
Sing a Lullaby
Lonely Shadow, you'll  find a new Light

Dawn will be Kind
All will be Bright,
Lonely Shadow,  run  Free  from the Darkness

Dream a Dream
And see through Angel's eyes
A Place where we can fly away.  

~Unknown

~Beannaichte'
 23 August,2016 


@beannaichte.twitter.com  




Tuesday, August 9, 2016

"Edge of Light"

~`When 
You
 have come to
the Edge of the Light
You Know
and are about to
Set Off
into the Darkness
of the 
Unknown,
Faith
is Knowing
that One of Two Things
will Happen~
there will be
Something
Solid
to Stand On,
 or
You
will be Taught
How 
to
FLY.'

~BARBARA J. WINTER

~Beannaichte'
 9 August, 2016

@beannaichte.twitter.com

Tuesday, August 2, 2016

" Olympians"

~ Courage
Doesn't  Always Roar.
Sometimes
Courage is the Quiet Voice
at the End of the Day
Saying,
"I will try again,
Tomorrow."
~ Unknown
 
~Beannaichte'
 2 August, 2016 

@beannaichte.twitter.com

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

"The Great Circle"


You have noticed
 that everything an Indian
 does is in a Circle,
 and that is because
the Power of the World
always works
in Circles,
and everything
 tries to be Round.

In the old days
 when we were  a strong
and happy people,
all our Power came to us,
from the Sacred Hoop of the Nation,
and so long as the Hoop
was Unbroken
the people flourished.

The Flowering Tree 
was the Living Center
of the Hoop,
and the Circle of the Four Quarters
nourished it.
The East gave Peace and Light,
the South gave Warmth,
the West gave Rain,
and the North
with its cold and mighty Wind
gave Strength and
 Endurance.

The Knowledge
comes to us from
the Outer World with our Religion.
Everything the Power 
of the World does
in a Circle.
The Sky is Round,
and I heard that the Earth is Round
like a Ball,
and so are the Stars.

The Wind
in its greatest Power, 
Whirls.
Birds make their nests
in Circles,
for theirs is the same Religion
as ours.
The Sun comes forth
and goes down in a Circle.
The Moon does the same,
and both are Round.

Even the Seasons
form a good Circle
and always come back again
  to where they were.
The life of people 
is in a Circle,
from Childhood to Childhood,
and so it is
in Everything
where Power Moves.

Our teepees
were Round like the nests
of birds,
and they were always
set in a Circle,
the Nation's Hoop,
and a Nest of many Nests,
where the Great Spirit Meant for us
to raise our Children.

~Black Elk;
 (Hehaka Sapa)
December 1863-August 1950
Holy Man,
Oglala Lakota (Sioux)

~Beannaichte'
 27 July, 2016

@beannaichte.twitter.com



Tuesday, July 19, 2016

"The Birthright"

We were born
In country places,
Far from cities
And shifting faces.

We have a Birthright
No man can sell,
And a secret Joy
No man can tell.

For We are Kindred
To Lordly things,
The wild duck's flight
And the white owl wings.
To pike and salmon,
To bull and horse,
The curlew's cry
And the smell of gorse.

Pride of trees
Swiftness of streams,
Magic of frost
Have shaped our Dreams:
No baser Vision
Their Spirit fills,
Who Walk by Right
On the naked Hills.

~Eiluned Lewis
(1900-1979) 
Wales

~Beanniachte'
 19 July, 2016

@beannaichte.twitter.com 

Friday, July 15, 2016

"Time Out"

In the name God, stop a moment,
cease your work,
look around you...

~Leo Tolstoy


     I live high in the hills and my body is getting olde. One day I was out in my garden fussing with weeds and grew tired. I decided to lie back on the grass and rest like I did when I was a small boy.
     I woke up several minutes later, with a neighbour I had never met leaning over me, asking if I was okay. He had looked out his window, two blocks up the hill, and saw me lying on my back on the grass.  I am sure I looked like the victim of a stroke or heart attack. He ran all the way down the hill to check on me.
     It was embarrassing, but it was also so wonderfully touching. After we had sorted it all out, he let out a deep breath and lay down on the grass beside me. We both stayed there very quietly for a while and then he said,"Thank you, for deciding to take your nap out on the lawn where I could see you. The sky is such a beautiful thing, and I cannot remember the last time I really looked at it.

~Unknown

Beannaichte'
 15 July, 2016

@beannaichte.twitter.com 

Friday, July 8, 2016

"Life Lines"


What the heart gives away is not lost.
It is kept in the hearts of others.

~ Robin St. John


How can I smile so soon after,
 you ask?
What reason have I to cry?
He filled my days with laughter.
Would a saddened face and swollen eyes,
be proper tribute to such a man?
His reply to death was living.
I won't put him to shame by giving up on life.
To withdraw into a world of grief,
what kind of wife would I be?
Like a man about to be born, he died,
with a sigh of relief on his last breath.
He has gone on to a better life,
how do I mourn his death?
Having known such a man,
I should weep?


~ Randy Jaroch
U.S.A.

~ Beannaichte'
 8 July, 2016

@beannaichte.twitter.com

         

Friday, July 1, 2016

"Gettysburg Address"

      
Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and dedicated , can long endure.  We are met on a great battle-field of that war.  We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting-place for those who gave their lives that this nation might live.  It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate- we can not consecrate- we can not hallow- this ground.  The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract.  The world will little note, nor long remember, what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.  It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated to the unfinished work which they fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.  It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us-that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

~Abraham Lincoln
U.S.A.
19 November, 1863 


~Beannaichte'
1 July, 2016


~Happy Independence Day!

Semper  Fidelis

~55,000 of our Women Veterans
remain homeless.
PLEASE visit www.finalsalute.org
for additional information.
~Thank You!

@beannaichte.twitter.com                                                                                     

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

"Eyes of a Painter"



Gray-haired and flint-eyed
His sunburned Face lined 
Grandpa was a man of few words
He had a way of not wanting to say
Any more than he thought could be heard.

The long Years of Living 
And day-to-day Giving
Had carved a Map on his Face
With Little to Lose, he'd learned how to Choose
And his Choices were easy to Trace.

He had the Eyes of a Painter
The Heart of a Maker of Songs
And his Words fell Like Rain
On the Dry desert Plain
Precious and so Quickly Gone.

From a long line of Teachers
And white Baptist Preachers
He was Born with an Indian Will
His Quiet dark Eyes, Reading the Light 
As he rode in the low Osage Hills.

His School was the Prairie, the Sage, the Wild Berry
The Quail, the wide Open Sky
The Cottonwood thicket, by the Slow Rolling River
The Redbud and the hot Cattle Drive.

There were Days filled with Thinking
Nights with the drinking
For a Lost Love that Raged like a Storm
But how his Eyes Smiled, when he'd talk to a Child
His rough Hands so Gentle and Warm.

His strong Arms were brown 
Where the long sleeves rolled down
On his Faded blue cotton Shirt
When Times got hard, he went out in the yard
And cuss away some of the Hurt.

Now the Garden's grown dusty
The hand Axe lies Rusty
The door's banging hard in the Wind
Grandpa's Store is Closed down
Like most of the Town
And  it Won't be Open again.

His big white car sits out in the Yard
Of  the House he Built Solid  and True
But I see his Eyes, Burning tonight
Like the Stars in the Sky he once Knew.

He had the Eyes of a Painter...
And the Heart of a Maker of Songs
~And his Words  Fell like Rain...
On the Dry desert Plain
Precious and so  Quickly Gone.
 
 


~Kate Wolf
  U.S.A.

~Beannaichte'
 22 June, 2016


beannaichte@twitter.com