timeforINRI

  I'm lyin' on the barren ground that's baked and cracked with drought, And dunno if my legs or back or heart is most wore out; I've got no spirits left to rise and smooth me achin' brow -- I'm too knocked up to light a fire and bile the billy now. Oh it's trampin', trampin', tra-a-mpin', in flies an' dust an' heat, Or it's trampin' trampin' tra-a-a-mpin' through mud and slush 'n sleet; It's tramp an' tramp for tucker -- one everlastin' strife, An' wearin' out yer boots an' heart in the wastin' of yer life. They whine o' lost an' wasted lives in idleness and crime -- I've wasted mine for twenty years, and grafted all the time And never drunk the stuff I earned, nor gambled when I shore -- But somehow when yer on the track yer life seems wasted more. A long dry stretch of thirty miles I've tramped this broilin' day, All for the off-chance of a job a hundred miles away; The...

 A lone gray bird, Dim-dipping, far-flying, Alone in the shadows and grandeurs and tumults Of night and the sea And the stars and storms. Out over the darkness it wavers and hovers, Out into the gloom it swings and batters, Out into the wind and the rain and the vast, Out into the pit of a great black world, Where fogs are at battle, sky-driven, sea-blown, Love of mist and rapture of flight, Glories of chance and hazards of death On its eager and palpitant wings. Out into the deep of the great dark world, Beyond the long borders where foam and drift Of the sundering waves are lost and gone On the tides that plunge and rear and crumble. Carl Sandburg I Speak Jesus

I stand alone in this world In natural surroundings  I hand You my pomp and pride  Expecting nothing in return. All the luxuries I experience  Are temporary in nature  Permanent's only Your grace I found this with passing time. Swiftness of flowing waters Movement of waves in sea Blowing breeze that sustains life Are stepping stones You handed us. Climbing one step at a time Helping fellow beings with care Chanting Your name constantly  I'll move on without any worry.   Tirupathi Chandrupatla

 Poor Clares Galway Love Gives More Than Enough  

 I have desired to go Where springs not fail, To fields where flies no sharp and sided hail, And a few lilies blow. And I have asked to be Where no storms come, Where the green swell is in the havens dumb, And out of the swing of the sea. Gerard Manley Hopkins I Speak Jesus

In the darkest streets where sorrow dwells, A boy of strength, his story tells. With teapot in hand, his dreams held tight, He sells his brew from morning light. No hint of sorrow, no, not a trace, For he carries burdens within his grace. His weary eyes, behind a smile concealed, A painful truth yet to be revealed. With every cup he pours in jest, Laughter erupts to mask the unrest. His heart, heavy and burdened so, Through humor's veil, his sadness won't show. Through all the struggles, he remains strong, To support his family, where he belongs. He carries their hopes upon his shoulder, A silent hero, as the nights grow colder. So raise your cups, sip the bitter brew, But know, behind laughter, sadness rings true. For the boy who hides his sorrow's cry, May his dreams find solace in the sky. Shruti Dash The Spirit Of Truth

 Love never gives up. Love cares for others more than self. Love doesn't want what it doesn't have. Love doesn't strut, Doesn't have a swelled head, Doesn't force itself on others, Isn't always "me first," Doesn't fly off the handle, Doesn't keep score of the sins of others, Doesn't revel when others grovel, Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth, Puts up with anything, Trust God always, Always look for the best, Never looks back, But keeps going to the end.  Love never dies. Inspired speech will be over someday; praying in tongues will end; understanding will reach its limit. We know only a portion of the truth, and what we say  about God is always incomplete. But when the Complete arrives, our incompletes will be  cancelled.  When I was an infant at my mother's breast, I gurgled and cooed like any infant. When I grew  up, I left those infant ways for good. We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering th...