Ch 06 On Weakness And Old Age Story 03
I was in Diarbekr, the guest of an old man, who possessed abundant wealth and a beautiful son. One night he narrated to me that he had all his life no other son but this boy, telling me that in the locality people resorted to a certain tree in a valley to offer petitions and that he had during many nights prayed at the foot of the said tree, till the Almighty granted him this son. I overheard the boy whispering to his companion: ‘How good it would be if I knew where that tree is that I might pray for my father to die.’ Moral: The gentleman is delighted that his son is intelligent and the boy complains that his father is a dotard.
Years elapse without thy visiting
The tomb of thy father.
What good hast thou done to him
To expect the same from thy son?
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I Confess
It is true.
I confess.
I have been spoiled.
And My Father,
The Almighty...
Knows this confession best.
When I feel I have a need,
And I please My Father...
With deeds I attempt,
And some not successfully...
My Father decides,
To then surprise.
It is true.
I confess.
I have been spoiled.
And My Father,
The Almighty...
Knows this confession best.
When I pray each day,
And express my gratefulness...
I don't take for granted,
Those blessings from My Father...
I know from Him I get.
When I find I struggle,
And I am wet with sweat...
I am comforted by My Father,
Who then allows...
My peace and rest.
It is true.
I confess.
I have been spoiled.
And My Father,
The Almighty...
Knows this confession best.
Before Him I place no 'thing' I value more.
Before My Father,
I profess a love for him that is adored.
My loyalty and devotion,
Is given without thought.
And My Father and I...
Tackle those obstacles,
He assists me to abort.
It is true.
I confess.
I have been spoiled.
And My Father,
The Almighty...
Knows this confession best.
And nothing do I have do I take for granted.
I know from 'WHOM' my gifts have come.
I know from 'WHOM' has 'allowed' this to be done!
It is true.
I confess.
I have been spoiled.
And My Father,
The Almighty...
Knows this confession best.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Father, Can you see me?
Can You See Me Father?
Father, can you see me?
Father, can you help me through this night?
Father, are you with me?
I look up at the sky, and wonder why, I feel so alone now...
Father, will you help me?
Im afraid to close my eyes.
Father, can you hear me?
Father, can you see me?
Father, if I sleep now, will you be watching over me this night?
Father, can you hear me?
Father, can you see me?
Father, the world I see is so much larger, than I remember when you were here with me.
Father, can you hear me?
Father, can you see me?
Father, can you help me stand own my own two feet once more?
Father, Im on my knees, looking at the sky, looking for your eyes.
Father, I've lost my way, Lord, I pray for your guidance once more.
Father, what was your will, Lord, it was not mine.
Father, can you hear me?
Father, can you see me?
Father, as I pray for your will, please come and show me the way, dear Lord I pray.
Amen
poem by Rose Rosado
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Father Of Night
Father of night, father of day,
Father, who taketh the darkness away,
Father, who teacheth the bird to fly,
Builder of rainbows up in the sky,
Father of loneliness and pain,
Father of love and father of rain.
Father of day, father of night,
Father of black, father of white,
Father, who build the mountain so high,
Who shapeth the cloud up in the sky,
Father of time, father of dreams,
Father, who turneth the rivers and streams.
Father of grain, father of wheat,
Father of cold and father of heat,
Father of air and father of trees,
Who dwells in our hearts and our memories,
Father of minutes, father of days,
Father of whom we most solemnly praise.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Letter My Father Will Never See
if only one last time i could see you. if only one time i could tell you what i think. if only one time i could say what i've been thinking for all these years. if only i could just not care. if only it didn't hurt so much. if only i could say that you dont matter. if only i could tell you. if only one time you'd listen. if only you knew. if only i could tell you your an ass. if only i could say and put into words what you've put me through. if only you were around to say good job.
as a father you have failed. as a father you were never there. as a father you never held me. as a father you never cared. as a father you never gave me praise. as a father you never brushed my hair. as a father you didn't teach me about life. as a father you didn't teach me how to care. as a father you never showed me love. as a a father you you let me cower in the corner. as a father you scared the hell out of me every night of the week. as a father you came home drunk. as a father you didn't put me to bed. as a father you never gave me a hug as a father you were my worst night. however, for some reason i cant fathom your my father. and for the same reason i cant fathom how you earned the title when being a father was one thing that you never were and dont seem to want to be.
Story Of An Oak Tree
I walked through the park and saw a young oak tree growing,
Growing beside an old bark hit by lightning.
I asked the young tree how he wished to be,
He shook his leaves and sung to me:
Im a strong oak tree like my father used to be,
Though deep in my heart, the memorys still there.
The sky is clearer now and the wind is fair,
The world is beautiful and I like it out here.
When I hear thunder, I think of my father,
He taughtme about life, that was when I was five.
Its true that some days are more than grey,
But we learn to get by day by day.
Im a strong oak tree like my father used to be,
Though deep in my heart, the memorys still there.
The sky is clearer now and the wind is fair,
The world is beautiful and I like it out here.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Story Of An Oak Tree
I walked through the park and saw a young oak tree growing,
Growing beside an old bark hit by lightning.
I asked the young tree how he wished to be,
He shook his leaves and sung to me:
Im a strong oak tree like my father used to be,
Though deep in my heart, the memorys still there.
The sky is clearer now and the wind is fair,
The world is beautiful and I like it out here.
When I hear thunder, I think of my father,
He taughtme about life, that was when I was five.
Its true that some days are more than grey,
But we learn to get by day by day.
Im a strong oak tree like my father used to be,
Though deep in my heart, the memorys still there.
The sky is clearer now and the wind is fair,
The world is beautiful and I like it out here.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bastard Son's Story
I stand before you Father,
but you refuse to see
Oh dear Father, have I fallen from the tree
of your good grace, our last embrace
now a memory
Oh Father, have you forgotten me
I kneel before you Father
But you do not feel
Oh dear Father, have you forsaken me
I am your flesh and blood
Dear Father, look at me!
I am your ill-begotten history
© 2009 Sonya Florentino
poem by Sonya Florentino
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Ch 04 On The Advantages Of Silence Story 03
An intelligent youth possessed an abundant share of accomplishments and discreet behaviour so that he was allowed to sit in assemblies of learned men but he refrained from conversing with them. His father once asked him why he did not likewise speak on subjects he was acquainted with. He replied: ‘I fear I may be asked what I do not know and be put to shame.’
Hast thou heard how a Sufi drove
A few nails under his sandals
And an officer taking him by the sleeve
Said to him: ‘Come and shoe my horse.’
For what thou hast not said no one will trouble thee
But when thou hast spoken bring the proof.
No father?
i told my father it was so and i got up and left him then you know
though there was nowhere i had to go and nothing i had to do
i stand before you father
but you refuse to see
oh father, have you forgotten me?
i kneel before you father
but you do not feel
i am your flesh and same blood
if only you knew
if only i could tell you your an ass
if only i could say and put into words what you've put me through
if only you were around to say good job
as a father you have failed
as a father you were never there
i am ill be gotten history
...no father?
poem by Calvin Jenkins
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The Prisoner Of War
he waited from night to night
he waited till the son started peeling over the horizon
he waited till he heard the morning birds chirp
he waited for a long time
he waited for his father
his father lost at war
his father he knew since he was born
but as time grew
the boy felt so weary
the boy waited and waited and waited
his mother giving him the same face
the same face when his father left
and the same face when he didn't comeback
but the boy did not notice this
the boy never knew his dad has been lost
but until
until he strayed up one night
a night he would never forget
he saw his father walking about in the streets
his uniform on but he noticed something else
his father had many medals
but he knew nothing of them
all that he cared about was his father was home
the boy waited 10 years
his mother fell asleep in tears
for all those years
but then he finally came home
this poem is dedicated to all POW
poem by Montana Hohensee
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A Father Image I
Oh father, my father
Am humbled by your ways
As you sustain innate integrity
Of having a low profile lifestyle
Always patience and responsible
As you stay loving mum till now
Oh father, my father
Am inspired by your manners
As you hold the cool temperance
Of always being forgiving and caring
Always supportive and understanding
As you are standing by for us till now
Oh father, my father
Am encourage by your humility
As you practice sound principles
Of fatherhood and a counselor
Always guiding us by example
As you live a clean life till now
No wonder I am your son
As I walk on your footsteps
Of being a dear good father
To my beloved own family
How I wish I could live on
To be like you till now at 75
poem by Marvin Brato Sr
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In Prayer to You
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
For all that you've done for me.
In the early morning hours,
When I arise to greet the Sun...
I feel blessed and prepared,
With such gratefulness...
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
And when noon approaches...
No matter what I have done,
Before that time comes...
That may create a disturbance,
I did not invite nor did I make.
I find time to show it is You I appreciate.
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
Whether or not...
Thunder storms roar,
Or rain drops fall to pitter and pat.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
And at the oncoming of Sunset...
Not one moment do I forget,
The power of Your presence...
That showers the blessings,
From You I get!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Father, son, spirit
The father conceives his son
the son grows with his father
the spirit allows the heritage
Father, son, spirit. The father says sweet things to his son
the son is a rosebud to his father
the spirit remembers the instant of conception
Spirit, father, son. The father works, gladly
the son at school, learns much
the spirit, lovingly, joins them
Son, father, spirit The son makes his father, a good father
the union of father and son,
is the work of the spirit of love
Spirit, son, father.
poem by Teresa Gonzalez-Lee
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Knowing Of A Tree
It is a good thing indeed
When someone plants a seed
And to watch and help it grow
So someday, it to be a tree.
It is a good thing in truth
When a tree brings forth its fruit
Or to shade someone's head
Or its branch be a robins nest.
It is good when a tree is used
By nature, or by me or you
To protect or shelter lives
For a tree; it never dies.
A tree is someone's home
A tree is someone's good book
A tree is never alone,
For to know a tree, all you do; is look.
It is good to plant a tree
It is good to plant a seed
For someday it will be grown
And a tree, will be known.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Kill, Kill and Kill
Kill, kill, and kill all those
Who are in this locality and dispose off
All their belongings and loot
The crowd from near by area had come on foot
We all were threatened and very much afraid
They had chosen night time for raid
We had everything here including beautiful home
It was doctor's house and named as always 'welcome'
Father was known figure and medical practitioner
He used to help down trodden and was good listener
He provided free medicines many times for the poor
Such was father known as will never show door
The crowd was carrying burning torches
They saw father at the door from distance of an inches
'Go back, go back' shouted the leader
This is home of our beloved doctor and savior
We were all moved by this kind gesture
We were shivering and taken over by fear
The riots had broken out over small matter
The loving people had turned arch haters
Father has served that locality since years
Inhabitants were poor and were hand to mouth earners
The doctor's fee was never a problem
People were served well and taken out of troubles
I remember him as her dear daughter
He was not a doctor alone but loving father
I used to shiver with little thought of that dead night
What could have happened to us if had not gone right
I decided to serve people from that day onward
I understood that peace was the only option to look forward
We are only human being and always subject to decay
Why propaganda and untruth should make us to be carried away?
Humanity has still not died away and rules supreme
Sometimes help come in unexpectedly in extreme situation
We all are children of same God and need protection
Why to shed blood in streets instead of improving the relation?
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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I'm Just An Ordinary Tree
My existence
start from a little piece of seed...
First, I was bury on the ground...
Then, I showed my two cute leaves up in to world...
But it didn't end just like that...
I grow... more and more...
With love, hope and care,
I became a tree...
Tree with many leaves,
if you need some shady circumstance...
Tree with a strong wood,
if you need me to make a good wardrobe...
Tree with a tight root,
if you want to make a solid foundation...
Tree with a sincerely pray,
if you need a support...
Tree with an everlasting presence,
if you need a friend beside you forever...
Tree with a dry branch,
if you want to share your tears...
Tree with a pure dew,
if you feel thirsty...
Tree with a warm wind,
if you get cold and alone...
Tree with a full color's flowers,
if you feel your life so black and white...
Tree with many hopes,
if you lost your dreams away...
But... after all,
I'm just an ordinary Tree...
By: Tree
22 May 2007,7: 02 PM
My father, My father
My father, my father,
I love he,
my father, my father,
made me see,
how beautiful this world really can be.
My father, my father,
said to me,
my daughter my daughter,
come see me,
I wont be around forever, and i have things that must be.
My father, my father,
dont die on me.
[I wrote this while my father was in the hospital, I'm sorry to say he never got to leave. R.I.P October 7,08.]
poem by Dakota Ellerton
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Aftermath
'The Tree Still Stands! '
Exclaimed the boy clasping his hands
To his Father who was walking the rear,
And to his Grandfather who was nowhere near.
For happy was He.
For standing there so straight and tall
Was the tree whose limbs He crawled
And the branches from which He played,
And the root where His head once laid.
And the many leaves.
Now the Father whom hearing His Son
Came to his side in a moment run
Then He stopped; for the tree He saw
Then the Father just stood in awe,
And uttered; 'my old friend'.
For standing there was His friend
From which before His youth was spent
By climbing and playing games,
And hiding under, from the cold and rain.
And the wind.
Then the Grandfather came strolling up
And He paused, in a moment hush
To reflect to a different year
When He was a Child, and He cried a tear.
And He clasped His hands.
For he was then again a Child
And then again He cried and smiled,
For He remembered His Father and He,
And how together they planted a tree.
And it still stands.
'Thank GOD the tree still stands! '
Cried the Grandfather clasping His hands.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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The family tree
I am known by my father
Though equally owned by mother.
I trace from my father’s father,
And not from father’s mother
Nor my mother’s mother or father.
Has family tree any sense?
19.08.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Saying We Hear Often
A saying we hear often like father like son
It is only human when all is said and done
That the boy models himself on the behaviour of dad
More often than not for the good than the bad.
Though few so few ever grow into a sage
Good values by people learned at a young age
In behaviour the son the dad does imitate
One might say from life we get what we create.
The son mostly models himself on the father what more proof does one need
That by good or bad example one only can lead
Though on some occasions this has been proved wrong
The bond between father and son mostly strong.
I'm not into human psychology so don't ask me why
Like father like son in most cases apply
Without a good father the child in life may not succeed
Good role models in their life every young person need.
poem by Francis Duggan
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