a blossom has no signature nor a snowflake not even the giant oak nor the newborn child only man's papers and works of art the moment we create music the moment we create colour and shape the moment we create anything we could begin a voyage to vanity and greed
while listening to music of the masters feeling refreshed and uplifted one cannot help but wonder what mankind would do without these “mad” men when I entered the house lights flooded the room but the being living there looked somber and lost for he had not found his inner light
I wandered from the St. Lawrence to the Fraser from east to west coast, witnessed pines, lakes and mountains, cascades, maple and bush beaver, moose and Canada geese but nowhere did I see man creating all this the infant cries because he does not receive the young man steals because he does not have the man kills because he was never given
what a beautiful kaleidoscope of colour it would make if all the eyes met that read this the only bore to live with is oneself
it is better to walk a Way than to run away when children are full of awe and wonder we send them to school after graduation they are dull and empty the infant
laugh o sun, cry o rain cry o sun, laugh o rain but only your union will create a rainbow where is that line is there a line when is that line where night ends and day begins
if it takes one thousand years for one inch of stalagmite to grow how then can we see the master's vision? rain, how honest you are you make me wet when I walk in you
before we blushed when we lied now we blush while speaking the truth the branches shivered when birds left them to fly south
all we do with joy reflects joy a happy being stays dry in the rain even when he is wet if we look at our lakes and oceans flowers and forests waterfalls or snowcapped mountains with financial gain in mind we have seen nothing at all
those who lose contact with the heart could become bitter and hard we take the matches from the infant after the house is burnt down
we can be so holy we can be so passive that we will go out and kill to prove our ideals ruins stared at me while weeds waved in the wind suddenly a flower came forth out of the ruins, out of the weeds out of the wind
“step aside,” said the worm to the leaf “no, I won't,” said the leaf &ldqou;then I'll eat you,” said the worm but on the leaf was a frog and the worm was eaten a worm crawled out of a coffin it went to the lake fat and healthy a fish came by and chose it for its meal we ate that fish for dinner
the healer of minds gave his patient the wrong pills those to calm his own nerves I attended an uninvited kinetic art show when herds of impala and zebra ran by
we see many ads about what to do or take for a headache but never how to prevent one I wonder why many leaves came down the stream with the current — except one it struggled and fluttered against twigs and rocks but when the big wave came to swallow it a butterfly flew away
the a b c of our alphabet is our downfall Arrogance Boredom Conceit the wildebeest was killed only to use its tail for a flyswatter
many years ago we read, talked and dreamed about enlightenment; we still do a future astronaut emerged when the caterpillar looked up from the edge of a leaf
a shy bongo came out of the woods to kill its rival I heard a future shriek of gazelle and zebra while looking at the leopard cub
the thorn-treeís thorns hurt the lionís paw but feed the giraffe the night frost proved his talents when he left a whole gallery of artworks behind on the windows
jewels with tails and fins came by when I looked under the surface of tropic waters myriad snowflakes created a symphony while they danced down towards Earth
the only bore to live with is oneself the moment we have fear of life we are dying
can you hear the concert played by the wings of butterflies? he held a gem in his hand and offered it she said, “I donít care for glass.”
nature's honesty annoys man therefore she has to go like the man who speaks the truth must go no matter how long you hang onto your branch, brown leaf soon you will have to make way for the spring bud
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