Kindness is like a cup of tee
If you want to taste the tee
You have to fill the cup
So, if you want to taste the happiness
You have to fill your heart with kindness
Life is like a cup of kindness
You can taste it or
You can waste it …
Love is like a cup of tee
You can make it sweet or
You can make it sour …..
KM Bhai
On November 21, 2017, at the Peace Pals International Awards Ceremony the winners of the 2017 Peace Pals International Art Contest were announced.
20 pieces of artwork were selected from each age category with the theme of Nature for All – Loving the Earth.
Visit wppspeacepals.org to view all submissions from the winners and finalists and to find out more about this years contest which has the theme 'Living Peace - What does Living Peace mean to you?'
Since I grew wings
no longer poor am I.
The ground no longer interests me
as much as drafting the sky.
Catching a current,
I stretch my reach and soar.
Unbound, untethered, there is no thing
except the yes of an opened door.
To say it tickles me is only a hint.
To understand the bigger look
I had to let go, forgive and admit.
There is just here, this floating
past all tumultuous storm,
to then rest in the calm of clouds,
swaddle between being newly born.
When in body before, there was
a heaviness that weighed me down,
but oh, now the lightness carries me
carries me on the feathered flight
beyond all measure
beyond all perceptual sight.
mj
On November 21, 2017, at the Peace Pals International Awards Ceremony the winners of the 2017 Peace Pals International Art Contest were announced.
20 pieces of artwork were selected from each age category with the theme of Nature for All – Loving the Earth.
Visit wppspeacepals.org to view all submissions from the winners and finalists and to find out more about this years contest which has the theme 'Living Peace - What does Living Peace mean to you?
(A fav of Mish over at Kindspring.org)
You ask how I speak so confidently
for those I do not know.
Well, in every language
“love” translates the same.
There was never a time
the moon was not loving the wave
in the ancient poetry of sending
away and drawing in.
Raindrop, bucket, ocean—
a single ancestry
poured itself
into every swelling thing.
And now we weep at nothing—
the moan of a chord
the turn of a verse,
the way moonlight falls on a face.
I don’t mean to be didactic, but
something inside longs to be known.
It’s not so difficult to understand
if you sit sweetly in your own fullness.
John Wolf
SUFI Issue 90
Artist Credit: Donia Lilly
For current and back issues go toView Link
Love
is my favorite subject
with reams of memories
filling tattered notebooks
albums and frames
that weigh Lighter than air
scribed in paisleys and plaids
hearts and flowers and hugs
and underscored with tears
Love
sits beside me
an invisible companion
holding my hand
helping me write the syllabus
of a diploma learned
in heart
and worn with a golden robe
mj
Your love comes to me
in darkened shadowy places
where I forgot to turn on the light.
It spreads over me as a halo
of hope, flecked with gold and tears.
There is nothing unfathomable about
the lifesaver you toss to me.
It is the circular support that buoys me
when those menacing morays
want to nibble at my dangling toes.
Your love washes over me
in gentle healing waves
nudging me towards sunnier skies
and remedies unashamed.
It is the glimmering of universes
dancing on the petals of unfolding.
Fountains sprout where thoughts
once threatened to drown.
And I am saved
by your love.
mj poem
