Streams

Bitter waters can be welled, drawn and served destroying health. Tainted, poisoned, poised for strife making bitter such sweet life. These tongues that carry burdened views; pay them no mind, give them no room. Reserve the right to just refuse the bearer of such broken news. Instead you see give vacancy to those who speak of hope and peace, of what can be and fulfilled dreams. For speech is nothing but a stream. Which water choose you filth or clean?

Thankfulness

Still walking, talking, and breathing in air, still seeing the the sun and the moon's gentle glare, still planning and thinking and moving about, still able to sing and to laugh and to shout. Quite able to love and quite able to care and well able to capture a moment that's shared. Still able to cherish and be cherished alike, still able to choose what I like and don't like. Still able to ponder and question and view every blessing i have and be thankful in lieu.

Consistency

Consistency is consistently a commodity in need, forged of a conscious character, a tenacity in deed. The thought to be beholden to an ever present creed of truth, responsibility, and honesty of speech. A man like this is needed and is always well received, yet present tense would have us think he is a dying breed.

The Cycle

There exists nothing new neath the rays of the sun, there's perdition, and hate, senseless violence and pain. It's a cycle recurring, its a system well run, and with each passing age man is seemingly undone. Yet forget not dear friend, though the cycle is run; life ardent with vigor will never succumb. It's zeal strong and vibrant, like the sun through the rain, is fueled with the passion of hope, love and faith. For love conquers all as the poets do say, and hope is the means by which miracles take place. Faith is the substance, and root of dear hope, making beautiful all things by which man can cope. Take courage dear friend in commanding each day with faith hope and love that the cycle might break.