To die is to dwell in the past.
To live means keeping the past alive,
Bringing it to bear fully on the present,
Shaping a broad and complete future,
Pounding nails until fingers hurt,
Fixing that fort,
Climbing pines' mid-branch's small perch,
A twisted path, in shaded green, my feet began to follow.
Rolling waters, beside a trail, marked ways that I explored.
Scents of pine and fresh new flowers pulled gently at my soul;
My ears renewed by sounds of squirrel-chucks,
Granddaddy's roll-top desk,
Sitting in the back-room Sun,
Memories flow through time,
Some as though they've just begun.
Tomorrow the landscape is veiled silence, so why dwell on its struggles. Solemnity of the heights, attainable, is quite enough to accept as today's personal challenges.
The Universe is filled with new and fresh ideas, so why continue to try and fill it with old ones?
Challenge everyone to erase their thoughts of the mundane and replace those with heights once thought impossible to attain.
Opportunities abound everywhere, sometimes the greatest things we can do is point them out; let ingenuity take over from there.
Offer the young the moon, the stars, and heaven, sparking them to reach for personal greatness; then, help many of them fan those sparks into opportunistic bonfires.
Church of The Nazarene, former Pastor