A stumbling-block to the pessimist is a stepping-stone to the optimist.
– Eleanor Roosevelt
Tag: poetry
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.
― Khalil Gibran, The Prophet, “On Children”
Hearts united in pain and sorrow
will not be separated by joy and happiness.
Bonds that are woven in sadness
are stronger than the ties of joy and pleasure.
Love that is washed by tears
will remain eternally pure and faithful.
― Khalil Gibran, The Love Poems of Khalil Gibran, “Love Letters in the Sand”
You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.
Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.
Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other’s cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.
― Khalil Gibran, The Prophet, “On Marriage”
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
– Khalil Gibran, “Love Chapter II”
There never yet was honest man
That ever drove the trade of love;
It is impossible, nor can
Integrity our ends promove:
For Kings and Lovers are alike in this
That their chief art in reigne dissembling is.
Here we are lov’d, and there we love,
Good nature now and passion strive
Which of the two should be above,
And laws unto the other give.
So we false fire with art sometimes discover,
And the true fire with the same art do cover.
What Rack can Fancy find so high?
Here we must Court, and here ingage,
Though in the other place we die.
Oh! ‘tis torture all, and cozenage;
And which the harder is I cannot tell,
To hide true love, or make false love look well.
Since it is thus, God of desire,
Give me my honesty again,
And take thy brands back, and thy fire;
I’me weary of the State I’me in:
Since (if the very best should now befall)
Loves Triumph, must be Honours Funeral.
– Sir John Suckling, “Loving and Beloved”
Remorse seeps into my heart
Displacing the warmth of happiness
Trust, I do not
Love, I am afraid to
Sacrifice, I refuse to
The mind is unreasonable
And endlessly protects its reservations
I revel in the self-imposed exile
From the chaos of dichotomy
Kindness, I need to offer
Friendship, I turn to
Hope, I must give
The heart is always hopeful
And offers love unconditionally
© Sharon Kaur-Schuelke
When I consider everything that grows
Holds in perfection but a little moment;
That this huge stage presenteth naught but shows
Whereon the stars in secret influence comment.
– William Shakespeare, an excerpt from “Sonnet 15”
To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.
– William Blake, “Auguries of Innocence”, The Pickering Manuscript
I hold it true, whatever befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
‘Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.
– Alfred Lord Tennyson, “In Memoriam”, Part XXVII
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments; Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no, it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although highth be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
– William Shakespeare, “Sonnet 116”
Till all the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt with the sun;
O I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands of life shall run.
– Robert Burns, “A Red, Red Rose”
And all that memory loves the most
Was once our only hope to be:
And all that hope adored and lost
Hath melted into memory.
– Lord Byron, “they say that Hope is Happiness”
How many times do I love thee, dear?
Tell me how many thoughts there be
In the atmosphere
Of a new fallen year,
Whose white and sable hours appear
The latest flake of Eternity –
So many times do I love thee, dear.
How many time do I love thee, dear?
Tell me how many beads there are
In a silver chain
Of evening rain
Unravelled from the tumbling main,
And threading the eye of a yellowstar
So many times do I love again.
– Thomas Love Peacock, “Song”
one step forward
two steps backwards
two steps forward
one step backwards
on and on spinning the wheel
round and round the wheels go
so much movement
too much inertia
so much ability
too much exhaustion
on and on spinning the wheel
round and round the wheels go
© Sharon Kaur-Schuelke
Rainbow of Madness 