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Heroes:
LOVE is my hero and I guess love is God and God is love, God is in all good and all good is love, Kahlil Gibran, Mother Teresa, Albert Einstein, Gustav Klimt....
LOVE IS THE WATER OF LIFE
Everything other than love for the most beautiful Godthough it be sugar- eating.What is agony of the spirit?To advance toward death without seizinghold of the Water of Life.
(Rumi)
The beauty of the heartis the lasting beauty:its lips give to drinkof the water of life.
Truly it is the water,that which pours,and the one who drinks.All three become one whenyour talisman is shattered.That oneness you can't knowby reasoning.
(Rumi)
"I am only the house of your beloved,not the beloved herself:true love is for the treasure,not for the coffer that contains it."The real beloved is that one who is unique,who is your beginning and your end.When you find that one,you'll no longer expect anything else:that is both the manifest and the mystery.That one is the lord of states of feeling,dependent on none;month and year are slaves to that moon.When he bids the "state,"it does His bidding;when that one wills, bodies become spirit.
(Rumi)
This is love: to fly toward a secret sky,to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment.First, to let go of live.In the end, to take a step without feet;to regard this world as invisible,and to disregard what appears to be the self.Heart, I said, what a gift it has beento enter this circle of lovers,to see beyond seeing itself,to reach and feel within the breast.
(Rumi)
LOVE IS THE MASTER
Love is the One who masters all things;
I am mastered totally by Love.
By my passion of love for Love
I have ground sweet as sugar.
O furious Wind, I am only a straw before you;
How could I know where I will be blown next?
Whoever claims to have made a pact with Destiny
Reveals himself a liar and a fool;
What is any of us but a straw in a storm?
How could anyone make a pact with a hurricane?
God is working everywhere his massive Resurrection;
How can we pretend to act on our own?
In the hand of Love I am like a cat in a sack;
Sometimes Love hoists me into the air,
Sometimes Love flings me into the air,
Love swings me round and round His head;
I have no peace, in this world or any other.
The lovers of God have fallen in a furious river;
They have surrendered themselves to Love's commands.
Like mill wheels they turn, day and night, day and night,
Constantly turning and turning, and crying out.
(Rumi)
STAY CLOSE, MY HEART
Stay close, my heart, to the one who knows your ways;
Come into the shade of the tree that allays has fresh flowers.
Don't stroll idly through the bazaar of the perfume-markers:
Stay in the shop of the sugar-seller.
If you don't find true balance, anyone can deceive you;
Anyone can trick out of a thing of straw,
And make you take it for gold
Don't squat with a bowl before every boiling pot;
In each pot on the fire you find very different things.
Not all sugarcanes have sugar, not all abysses a peak;
Not all eyes possess vision, not every sea is full of pearls.
O nightingale, with your voice of dark honey! Go on lamenting!
Only your drunken ecstasy can pierce the rock's hard heart!
Surrender yourself, and if you cannot be welcomes by the Friend,
Know that you are rebelling inwardly like a thread
That doesn't want to go through the needle's eye!
The awakened heart is a lamp; protect it by the him of your robe!
Hurry and get out of this wind, for the weather is bad.
And when you've left this storm, you will come to a fountain;
You'll find a Friend there who will always nourish your soul.
And with your soul always green, you'll grow into a tall tree
Flowering always with sweet light-fruit, whose growth is interior.
(Rumi)
THE SHIP SUNK IN LOVE
Should Love's heart rejoice unless I burn?
For my heart is Love's dwelling.
If You will burn Your house, burn it, Love!
Who will say, 'It's not allowed'?
Burn this house thoroughly!
The lover's house improves with fire.
From now on I will make burning my aim,
From now on I will make burning my aim,
for I am like the candle: burning only makes me brighter.
Abandon sleep tonight; traverse fro one night
the region of the sleepless.
Look upon these lovers who have become distraught
and like moths have died in union with the One Beloved.
Look upon this ship of God's creatures
and see how it is sunk in Love.
(Rumi)
ABOUT LOVE - The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran
Then said Almitra, "Speak to us of Love."And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said:When love beckons to you follow him,Though his ways are hard and steep.And when his wings enfold you yield to him,Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.And when he speaks to you believe in him,Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.He threshes you to make you naked.He sifts you to free you from your husks.He grinds you to whiteness.He kneads you until you are pliant;And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;For love is sufficient unto love.When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, I am in the heart of God."And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.To know the pain of too much tenderness.To be wounded by your own understanding of love;And to bleed willingly and joyfully.To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;To return home at eventide with gratitude;And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
ABOUT BEAUTY - The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran
And a poet said, "Speak to us of Beauty."Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide?And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech?The aggrieved and the injured say, "Beauty is kind and gentle.Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us."And the passionate say, "Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread.Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us."The tired and the weary say, "beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit.Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow."But the restless say, "We have heard her shouting among the mountains,And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions."At night the watchmen of the city say, "Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east."And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say, "we have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset."In winter say the snow-bound, "She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills."And in the summer heat the reapers say, "We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair."All these things have you said of beauty.Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied,And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears.It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw,But rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight.People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.But you are life and you are the veil.Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.But you are eternity and your are the mirror.
ABOUT GIVING - The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran
Then said a rich man, "Speak to us of Giving."And he answered:You give but little when you give of your possessions.It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.For what are your possessions but things you keep and guard for fear you may need them tomorrow?And tomorrow, what shall tomorrow bring to the over prudent dog burying bones in the trackless sand as he follows the pilgrims to the holy city?And what is fear of need but need itself?Is not dread of thirst when your well is full, thirst that is unquenchable?There are those who give little of the much which they have - and they give it for recognition and their hidden desire makes their gifts unwholesome.And there are those who have little and give it all.These are the believers in life and the bounty of life, and their coffer is never empty.There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward.And there are those who give with pain, and that pain is their baptism.And there are those who give and know not pain in giving, nor do they seek joy, nor give with mindfulness of virtue;They give as in yonder valley the myrtle breathes its fragrance into space.Through the hands of such as these God speaks, and from behind their eyes He smiles upon the earth.It is well to give when asked, but it is better to give unasked, through understanding;And to the open-handed the search for one who shall receive is joy greater than givingAnd is there aught you would withhold?All you have shall some day be given;Therefore give now, that the season of giving may be yours and not your inheritors'.You often say, "I would give, but only to the deserving."The trees in your orchard say not so, nor the flocks in your pasture.They give that they may live, for to withhold is to perish.Surely he who is worthy to receive his days and his nights is worthy of all else from you.And he who has deserved to drink from the ocean of life deserves to fill his cup from your little stream.And what desert greater shall there be than that which lies in the courage and the confidence, nay the charity, of receiving?And who are you that men should rend their bosom and unveil their pride, that you may see their worth naked and their pride unabashed?See first that you yourself deserve to be a giver, and an instrument of giving.For in truth it is life that gives unto life - while you, who deem yourself a giver, are but a witness.And you receivers - and you are all receivers - assume no weight of gratitude, lest you lay a yoke upon yourself and upon him who gives.Rather rise together with the giver on his gifts as on wings;For to be over mindful of your debt, is to doubt his generosity who has the free-hearted earth for mother, and God for father.
The Divine Image by William Blake
Cruelty has a human heart,
And Jealousy a human face;
Terror the human form divine,
And secrecy the human dress.
The human dress is forged iron,
The human form a fiery forge,
The human face a furnace seal'd,
The human heart its hungry gorge.
A Dream by William Blake
Once a dream did weave a shade
O'er my angel-guarded bed,
That an emmet lost its way
Where on grass methought I lay.
Troubled, wildered, and forlorn,
Dark, benighted, travel-worn,
Over many a tangle spray,
All heart-broke, I heard her say:
"Oh my children! do they cry,
Do they hear their father sigh?
Now they look abroad to see,
Now return and weep for me."
Pitying, I dropped a tear:
But I saw a glow-worm near,
Who replied, "What wailing wight
Calls the watchman of the night?
"I am set to light the ground,
While the beetle goes his round:
Follow now the beetle's hum;
Little wanderer, hie thee home!"
I Heard An Angel by William blake
I heard an Angel singing
When the day was springing,
"Mercy, Pity, Peace
Is the world's release."
Thus he sung all day
Over the new mown hay,
Till the sun went down
And haycocks looked brown.
I heard a Devil curse
Over the heath and the furze,
"Mercy could be no more,
If there was nobody poor,
And pity no more could be,
If all were as happy as we."
At his curse the sun went down,
And the heavens gave a frown.
Down pour'd the heavy rain
Over the new reap'd grain ...
And Miseries' increase
Is Mercy, Pity, Peace.
Love's Secret by william BlakeNever seek to tell thy love,
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind does move
Silently, invisibly.
My Pretty Rose Tree by William Blake
A flower was offered to me,
Such a flower as May never bore;
But I said "I've a pretty rose tree,"
And I passed the sweet flower o'er.
Then I went to my pretty rose tree,
To tend her by day and by night;
But my rose turned away with jealousy,
And her thorns were my only delight.
I told my love, I told my love,
I told her all my heart;
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears,
Ah! she did depart!
Soon as she was gone from me,
A traveler came by,
Silently, invisibly
He took her with a sigh.
The Garden Of Love by William Blake
I laid me down upon a bank,
Where Love lay sleeping;
I heard among the rushes dank
Weeping, weeping.
Then I went to the heath and the wild,
To the thistles and thorns of the waste;
And they told me how they were beguiled,
Driven out, and compelled to the chaste.
I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen;
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.
And the gates of this Chapel were shut
And "Thou shalt not," writ over the door;
So I turned to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore.
And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tombstones where flowers should be;
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.
The Land Of Dreams by William Blake
Awake, awake, my little boy!
Thou wast thy mother's only joy;
Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep?
Awake! thy father does thee keep.
"O, what land is the Land of Dreams?
What are its mountains, and what are its streams?
O father! I saw my mother there,
Among the lilies by waters fair.
"Among the lambs, cloth'd in white,
She walk'd with her Thomas in sweet delight.
I wept for joy, like a dove I mourn;
O! when shall I again return?"
Dear child, I also by pleasant streams
Have wander'd all night in the Land of Dreams;
But tho' calm and warm the waters wide,
I could not get to the other side.
"Father, O father! what do we here
In this land of unbelief and fear?
The Land of Dreams is better far
Above the light of the morning star."
Love Enthroned by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
I marked all kindred Powers the heart finds fair:--
...Truth, with awed lips; and Hope, with eyes upcast;
...And Fame, whose loud wings fan the ashen Past
To signal-fires, Oblivion's flight to scare;
And Youth, with still some single golden hair
...Unto his shoulder clinging, since the last
...Embrace wherein two sweet arms held him fast;
And Life, still wreathing flowers for Death to wear.
Love's throne was not with these; but far above
...All passionate wind of welcome and farewell
He sat in breathless bowers they dream not of;
...Though Truth foreknow Love's heart, and Hope foretell,
...And Fame be for Love's sake desirable,
And Youth be dear, and Life be sweet to Love.
