En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Boaz Asleep

Boaz, overcome with weariness, by torchlight
made his pallet on the threshing floor
where all day he had worked, and now he slept
among the bushels of threshed wheat.

The old man owned wheatfields and barley,
and though he was rich, he was still fair-minded.
No filth soured the sweetness of his well.
No hot iron of torture whitened in his forge.

His beard was silver as a brook in April.
He bound sheaves without the strain of hate
or envy. He saw gleaners pass, and said,
Let handfuls of the fat ears fall to them.

The man's mind, clear of untoward feeling,
clothed itself in candor. He wore clean robes.
His heaped granaries spilled over always
toward the poor, no less than public fountains.

Boaz did well by his workers and by kinsmen.
He was generous, and moderate. Women held him
worthier than younger men, for youth is handsome,
but to him in his old age came greatness.

An old man, nearing his first source, may find
the timelessness beyond times of trouble.
And though fire burned in young men's eyes,
to Ruth the eyes of Boaz shone clear light.

poem by Victor Hugo
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Bible Stories: Ruth (Part II)

A man of wealth great was Boaz-
A kinsman of Elimelech,
The (dead) husband of Naomi.

Ruth asked Naomi to permit
Her glean among the ears of grain
In rich Boaz’s field that day;
Naomi told her to do so.

Young Ruth began to glean the ears
After the reapers, in the field
Of rich Boaz, from morn that day;

From Bethlehem, then Boaz came
And told the reapers all that day,
‘May Lord, our God be with you all.’
And they replied, ‘May He bless you! ’

Boaz then asked his servant nigh,
‘Who is that young woman that gleans? ’
The servant said, ‘A Moabite
With Naomi, from Moab-land.’

Ruth begged Boaz, ‘Please let me glean
And gather grain after reapers! ’
Boaz told Ruth, ‘You may do so,
But venture not into next field.’

She could stay on with his maids there.
He told the servants, ‘Don’t touch her.’
If thirsty, drink from water-jars
Or from what servants shall too draw.

Ruth fell upon her face on ground
And bowed and asked, ‘Is it because
She was a foreigner, she found
Good favor in Boaz’s sight? ’

To this, Boaz replied to her,
‘I am aware of all you’ve done
For your mother-in-law after
Your husband died and how you’d left
Your parents and your place of birth
To people whom you never knew.’

‘May Lord, the God of Israel then
(Under whose wings, you take refuge)
Reward your work that looks so great
And pay wages in accordance.’

To this Ruth said, ‘I’ve found favor
In your sight, lord, indeed so well.
I thank you for your kind words said,
Although I’m not akin your maids! ’

At mealtime Boaz said to Ruth,
‘Come, dip your bread in vinegar,
And served her roasted grains with all.
Ruth ate and seemed so satisfied.

When she arose to glean once more,
Boaz commanded that she glean
Even among the sheaves this time,
And no one was to insult her.

He told them to pull out grain-ears
From sheaves and dropp them purposely,
Allowing Ruth to glean freely,
And no one was to rebuke her!

Until that evening, Ruth had gleaned;
She beat the ears to gather grain;
It was an ephah of barley!
She took the grain into the town
And showed it all to Naomi
Who appeared very satisfied.

Her mother-in-law then asked her,
‘Where did you glean today and work?
May God bless him who favored you! ’
Ruth told her his name was Boaz!

Naomi told, God is so kind
To both the living and the dead.
May God bless Boaz specially
She told, ‘He’s our close relative! ’

Ruth told all that Boaz had said;
Naomi felt so happy that
Ruth had been asked to glean again,
Until the barley harvest ends.
Ruth did as Boaz instructed
And lived with her mother-in-law!

poem by John Celes
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Bible Stories: Ruth (Part III)

Boaz Will Redeem Ruth:

Then Naomi told Ruth one day,
‘Should I not seek security
For you, my daughter, to be well?
Our kinsman Boaz winnows grain
With maids at threshing floor, tonight! ’

‘You therefore wash yourself, anoint
And wear your best clothes and be there;
Don’t tell him who you are until,
He finishes eating, drinking;
You note the place where he lies down;
Go uncover his feet and lie;
Then, he will tell you what to do.’

Ruth promised to obey her words;
She reached the threshing floor and did
All that her mother-in-law said;
When Boaz had his food and fill,
With merry heart, he lay down still;
Ruth secretly went near the man
His feet uncovered, she lay down.

In middle of the night, the man
Got startled, seeing a lady!
She asked her whoever she was.
“I’m Ruth your maid and relative.”
Then Boaz said, ‘Blessed of Lord,
You’ve been kind to not go after
Young men, whether the poor or rich!
Do not fear, my daughter, now,
You’re a woman of excellence;
I’ll do for you whatev’r you ask.

‘There is a closer relative;
Remain this night until the dawn;
If he redeems you, well and good;
If he does not, I surely will;
He told her to lie down till morn.’

He got up early and told them,
‘Let none know that the woman came;
He asked her cloak and measured six
Measures of barley onto it.

Ruth went into the city then;
And told Naomi everything;
She showed the barley that he gave;
‘My daughter, wait’ said Naomi,
The man won’t rest till he settles! ’
Let’s wait and watch how things turn up.

Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-24-2007

poem by John Celes
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Bible Stories: Ruth (Part IV)

Boaz Marries Ruth:

As Boaz sat down near the gate,
There came the kinsman whom he sought;
He sat along with elders ten!
Boaz told them of Naomi
Who’d come away from Moab-land
After the death of her husband.

She has a plot of land to sell;
The kinsman had first right to buy,
And if he did, he should redeem
Ruth, widowed daughter-in-law too.

The kinsman told that he could not
And gave up right to redeem Ruth;
The man removed his shoe as sign,
‘Let Boaz buy the plot himself’
This was the practice in Israel! ’

So, Boaz told the elders there:
He had purchased Elimelech’s
And Naomi’s inheritance,
And Ruth, the wife of dead Mahlon.
Would be his new wife from then on.

This was to save the dead one’s kin,
From being cut off from brethren,
And all were witnesses that day,
Who sat to hear the news by gate!

The elders glorified the Lord,
And blessed the new wife of Boaz,
To build her house in Bethlehem,
And bear forth children: be famous
Like Rachel, Leah and too Tamar.

So, Ruth became Boaz’s wife,
And bore a son through grace of God
The women blessed and praised the Lord
Whose kindness saved Naomi’s clan.

Obed was son of Boaz, Ruth
And Naomi became its nurse!
Obed begot Jesse, father of
David, the King: Glory to God!

Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-24-2007

poem by John Celes
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Great Women - Young and Old

The lights of Bethlehem still burn,
For Ruth’s mother-in-law to return.

Since her unfettered faith, so strong,
Convinced Ruth, with her, to come along.

Facing bravely the consequences of God’s plan,
Ruth, with Naomi, went to the Promised Land.

To live on in Bethlehem was their decision,
Both seeking to receive God’s provision.

God doesn’t stop being God in adversity
Is what Naomi taught Ruth to believe.

So there in Bethlehem, Ruth sought for a man
To help her with the consequences of God’s plan.

And Boaz of Bethlehem, Naomi’s rich kinsman,
Found Ruth to be both charming and winsome.

So he shared with Ruth the bounty of his field,
When he learned her faith, though foreign, was real.

Thus they became one with the grace of God’s will
And with a prophecy of God their duty to fulfill.

Ruth’s faith in Naomi’s God found reinforcement
While lovelorn Naomi was freed of her resentment.

God’s will it was to give Ruth and Boaz a boy,
And for Naomi to restore her spiritual joy.

poem by Albert Price
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Ruth, a Moabite widow, gleaned ears of corn
God made her wife of the landlord, Boaz
Obed, her son was born

quote by by John Celes
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Separate From Me

“Separate from me, ” said Abraham to Lot,
“our people cannot coexist with one another.”
Lot chose to live in Sodom, where it’s very hot,
and said to Abraham: “It really doesn’t bother
me that all the people there are dreadful sinners.”
Its nightlife influenced him to be the city’s chooser.
Some people do not have a knack for picking winners,
but do not pity Lot. Although he was a loser
who nearly fried to death and lay with both his daughters,
he ended up the ancestor of Israel’s kings,
when Ruth the Moabite caught up with Boaz, tortoise
that breaks its safety shell and flies with wifely wings.
This is a story that we learn in Aesop’s fables,
relating how the tortoise overtook the hare;
Boaz was a hare who didn’t care for labels,
thought anti-Ruth discrimination wasn’t fair.
In ancient Athens ostracism was ten-yearly,
a ritual that allowed return, recalling Lot’s
descendant who returned to Abraham sincerely,
by tying nuptial knots while cutting Gordian knots.

3/14/06

poem by Gershon Hepner
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Booz Endormi

Booz s'était couché de fatigue accablé ;
Il avait tout le jour travaillé dans son aire ;
Puis avait fait son lit à sa place ordinaire ;
Booz dormait auprès des boisseaux pleins de blé.

Ce vieillard possédait des champs de blés et d'orge ;
Il était, quoique riche, à la justice enclin ;
Il n'avait pas de fange en l'eau de son moulin ;
Il n'avait pas d'enfer dans le feu de sa forge.

Sa barbe était d'argent comme un ruisseau d'avril.
Sa gerbe n'était point avare ni haineuse ;
Quand il voyait passer quelque pauvre glaneuse :
- Laissez tomber exprès des épis, disait-il.

Cet homme marchait pur loin des sentiers obliques,
Vêtu de probité candide et de lin blanc ;
Et, toujours du côté des pauvres ruisselant,
Ses sacs de grains semblaient des fontaines publiques.

Booz était bon maître et fidèle parent ;
Il était généreux, quoiqu'il fût économe ;
Les femmes regardaient Booz plus qu'un jeune homme,
Car le jeune homme est beau, mais le vieillard est grand.

Le vieillard, qui revient vers la source première,
Entre aux jours éternels et sort des jours changeants ;
Et l'on voit de la flamme aux yeux des jeunes gens,
Mais dans l'oeil du vieillard on voit de la lumière.

Donc, Booz dans la nuit dormait parmi les siens ;
Près des meules, qu'on eût prises pour des décombres,
Les moissonneurs couchés faisaient des groupes sombres ;
Et ceci se passait dans des temps très anciens.

Les tribus d'Israël avaient pour chef un juge ;
La terre, où l'homme errait sous la tente, inquiet
Des empreintes de pieds de géants qu'il voyait,
Etait mouillée encore et molle du déluge.

Comme dormait Jacob, comme dormait Judith,
Booz, les yeux fermés, gisait sous la feuillée ;
Or, la porte du ciel s'étant entre-bâillée
Au-dessus de sa tête, un songe en descendit.

Et ce songe était tel, que Booz vit un chêne
Qui, sorti de son ventre, allait jusqu'au ciel bleu ;
Une race y montait comme une longue chaîne ;
Un roi chantait en bas, en haut mourait un dieu.

Et Booz murmurait avec la voix de l'âme :
' Comment se pourrait-il que de moi ceci vînt ?
Le chiffre de mes ans a passé quatre-vingt,
Et je n'ai pas de fils, et je n'ai plus de femme.

' Voilà longtemps que celle avec qui j'ai dormi,
O Seigneur ! a quitté ma couche pour la vôtre ;
Et nous sommes encor tout mêlés l'un à l'autre,
Elle à demi vivante et moi mort à demi.

' Une race naîtrait de moi ! Comment le croire ?
Comment se pourrait-il que j'eusse des enfants ?
Quand on est jeune, on a des matins triomphants ;
Le jour sort de la nuit comme d'une victoire ;

Mais vieux, on tremble ainsi qu'à l'hiver le bouleau ;
Je suis veuf, je suis seul, et sur moi le soir tombe,
Et je courbe, ô mon Dieu ! mon âme vers la tombe,
Comme un boeuf ayant soif penche son front vers l'eau. '

Ainsi parlait Booz dans le rêve et l'extase,
Tournant vers Dieu ses yeux par le sommeil noyés ;
Le cèdre ne sent pas une rose à sa base,
Et lui ne sentait pas une femme à ses pieds.

Pendant qu'il sommeillait, Ruth, une moabite,
S'était couchée aux pieds de Booz, le sein nu,
Espérant on ne sait quel rayon inconnu,
Quand viendrait du réveil la lumière subite.

Booz ne savait point qu'une femme était là,
Et Ruth ne savait point ce que Dieu voulait d'elle.
Un frais parfum sortait des touffes d'asphodèle ;
Les souffles de la nuit flottaient sur Galgala.

L'ombre était nuptiale, auguste et solennelle ;
Les anges y volaient sans doute obscurément,
Car on voyait passer dans la nuit, par moment,
Quelque chose de bleu qui paraissait une aile.

La respiration de Booz qui dormait
Se mêlait au bruit sourd des ruisseaux sur la mousse.
On était dans le mois où la nature est douce,
Les collines ayant des lys sur leur sommet.

Ruth songeait et Booz dormait ; l'herbe était noire ;
Les grelots des troupeaux palpitaient vaguement ;
Une immense bonté tombait du firmament ;
C'était l'heure tranquille où les lions vont boire.

Tout reposait dans Ur et dans Jérimadeth ;
Les astres émaillaient le ciel profond et sombre ;
Le croissant fin et clair parmi ces fleurs de l'ombre
Brillait à l'occident, et Ruth se demandait,

Immobile, ouvrant l'oeil à moitié sous ses voiles,
Quel dieu, quel moissonneur de l'éternel été,
Avait, en s'en allant, négligemment jeté
Cette faucille d'or dans le champ des étoiles.

BOAZ ASLEEP.

At work within his barn since very early,
Fairly tired out with toiling all the day,
Upon the small bed where he always lay
Boaz was sleeping by his sacks of barley.

Barley and wheat-fields he possessed, and well,
Though rich, loved justice; wherefore all the flood
That turned his mill-wheels was unstained with mud
And in his smithy blazed no fire of hell.

His beard was silver, as in April all
A stream may be; he did not grudge a stook.
When the poor gleaner passed, with kindly look,
Quoth he, 'Of purpose let some handfuls fall.'

He walked his way of life straight on and plain,
With justice clothed, like linen white and clean,
And ever rustling towards the poor, I ween,
Like public fountains ran his sacks of grain.

Good master, faithful friend, in his estate
Frugal yet generous, beyond the youth
He won regard of woman, for in sooth
The young man may be fair--the old man's great.

Life's primal source, unchangeable and bright,
The old man entereth, the day eterne;
And in the young man's eye a flame may burn,
But in the old man's eye one seeth light.

As Jacob slept, or Judith, so full deep
Slept Boaz 'neath the leaves. Now it betided,
Heaven's gate being partly open, that there glided
A fair dream forth, and hovered o'er his sleep.

And in his dream to heaven, the blue and broad,
Right from his loins an oak tree grew amain.
His race ran up it far, like a long chain;
Below it sung a king, above it died a God.

Whereupon Boaz murmured in his heart,
'The number of my years is past fourscore:
How may this be? I have not any more,
Or son, or wife; yea, she who had her part.

'In this my couch, O Lord! is now in Thine;
And she, half living, I half dead within,
Our beings still commingle and are twin,
It cannot be that I should found a line!

'Youth hath triumphal mornings; its days bound
From night, as from a victory. But such
A trembling as the birch-tree's to the touch
Of winter is an eld, and evening closes round.

'I bow myself to death, as lone to meet
The water bow their fronts athirst.' He said.
The cedar feeleth not the rose's head,
Nor he the woman's presence at his feet!

For while he slept, the Moabitess Ruth
Lay at his feet, expectant of his waking.
He knowing not what sweet guile she was making;
She knowing not what God would have in sooth.

Asphodel scents did Gilgal's breezes bring--
Through nuptial shadows, questionless, full fast
The angels sped, for momently there passed
A something blue which seemed to be a wing.

Silent was all in Jezreel and Ur--
The stars were glittering in the heaven's dusk meadows.
Far west among those flowers of the shadows.
The thin clear crescent lustrous over her,

Made Ruth raise question, looking through the bars
Of heaven, with eyes half-oped, what God, what comer
Unto the harvest of the eternal summer,
Had flung his golden hook down on the field of stars.

poem by Victor Hugo
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Taxes should be lower, flatter, and simpler, in that order.

quote by David Boaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bible Stories: Ruth (Part V)

The grief of bereavement is great;
Three women lose their husbands fast;
But one has lost husband and sons!
Oh, what a tragedy for all!

The selfless mother-in-law feels
The daughters-in-law need not share
The cup of woes that life gave her,
But tells them to make their future.

One daughter-in-law goes away;
Ruth’s love for Naomi but stays;
She will not leave her any day;
But follows her in her pathways!

Naomi is more experienced;
Ruth puts her future in her hands;
She has to leave for Bethlehem,
Where she knows not the people there.

Her trust in Naomi is great;
She does whatever she tells her;
Naomi does right things for her
And guides Ruth to new destiny!

What unflinching love both do share!
And God is with them in travail;
They do not curse or lament much;
Their faith in God just cannot fail.

God works a miracle for Ruth;
Though Moabite, she is so good;
A rich man Boaz marries her
In accordance with Israel’s rites.

God’s mercy on two righteous souls-
Two widows without any hope,
Is brought out by the story here:
“Believe the Lord and He will care.”

poem by John Celes
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La Belle Juive

Is it because your sable hair
Is folded over brows that wear
At times a too imperial air;

Or is it that the thoughts which rise
In those dark orbs do seek disguise
Beneath the lids of Eastern eyes;

That choose whatever pose or place
May chance to please, in you I trace
The noblest women of your race?

The crowd is sauntering at its ease,
And humming like a hive of bees-
You take your seat and touch the keys.

I do not hear the giddy throng;
The sea avenges Israel's wrong,
And on the wind floats Miriam's song!

You join me with a stately grace;
Music to Poesy gives place;
Some grand emotion lights your face.

At once I stand by Mizpeh's walls:
With smiles the martyred daughter falls,
And desolate are Mizpeh's halls!

Intrusive babblers come between;
With calm, pale brow and lofty mien,
You thread the circle like a queen!

Then sweeps the royal Esther by;
The deep devotion in her eye
Is looking "If I die, I die!"

You stroll the garden's flowery walks;
The plants to me are grainless stalks,
And Ruth to old Naomi talks.

Adopted child of Judah's creed,
Like Judah's daughters true at need,
I see you mid the alien seed.

I watch afar the gleaner sweet;
I wake like Boaz in the wheat,
And find you lying at my feet!

My feet! Oh! if the spell that lures
My heart through all these dreams endures,
How soon shall I be stretched at yours!

poem by Henry Timrod
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Safe

Jason Statham, Catherine Chan, Chris Sarandon, Anson Mount, Reggie Lee, James Hong, Robert John Burke, Oksana Lada, Danny Hoch

by Boaz Yakin from Safe (2012)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Soldier's King

None seemed to notice the man beside the road
He was just a raged soldier out there in the cold
But he seemed to have a purpose only known to him
As he walked along the streets that night through the town of Bethlahem.
In his head he held a memory of all the wars he'd known
In his hand he clutched a medal for the bravery he'd shown
And the weight of every battle he caried in his heart
But his eyes were clear and searching for a manger in the dark.
Chorus:
Some are born to greatness, some are born to fall
Some are bound to be forgotten like they never lived at all
But we're all born to know Him and stand befor His light
Like the soldier who found his king tonight.
He had marched for politicians, served under their command
And he fought for all the causes that he did not understand
But it was something deep inside him now that led him on his way
With a single star to guide him to were the baby lay.
Chorus:
Some are born to greatness, some are born to fall
Some are bound to be forgotten like they never lived at all
But we're all born to know Him and stand befor His light
Like the soldier who found his king tonight.
He stood before the Son of God, come to pay our debt
He smiled up at the soldier that the world would soon forget
So he held out his medal and said this for you I bring
There he swore aligiance to the newborn baby King.
Chorus:
Some are born to greatness, some are born to fall
Some are bound to be forgotten like they never lived at all
But we're all born to know Him and stand befor His light
Like the soldier who found his king tonight...

song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good Man

Album : Silencer (2001)
You never had much style about you
We never knew the reason that you
You sat around almost every hour
And quickly lost your bargaining power
You can't be me
I'm convinced you're twice the man we are
And you cannot clear your mind
Cos in our eyes we're fine
And you're running out of time
But its not to do with us
And you cannot clear our minds
Cos in our eyes you're blind
And its such a waste of time
The threads you wore were something tragic
The words you spoke were so emphatic
The records that you make are tasteless
And eloquence with you is wasted
So whats your method, whats your scheme?
The whole scene knows what you already mean
And you cannot clear my mind
Cos in our eyes you're fine
And you're running out of time
But its not to do with us
And you cannot clear our minds
Cos in our eyes you're blind
And its such a waste of time
But its not to do with us
And you cannot clear our minds
Cos in our eyes you're fine
And you're running out of time
But its not to do with us
And you cannot clear our minds
Cos in our eyes you're fine
And you're such a waste of time
But its not to do with us
And you cannot clear our minds
Cos in our eyes you're fine
And you're running out of time
But its not to do with us
And you cannot clear our minds
Cos in our eyes you're fine
And you're such a waste of time

song performed by by Zed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waiting On The Wheat Harvest

as you sow brothers sisters so you wheat harvest reap
as a grain of wheat dies germinates bears fruit to heap
Jesus will completely clean up threshing floor gather his wheat
chaff he will burn up with unquenchable fire hell suffering heat
an enemy came in over sowed weeds in among seed wheat
reapers harvest collect weeds burn them saving only wheat
Satan demands sifts men as wheat to blow away in sifting wind
Son of man will send angels to gather chosen ones from ill wind
a grain of wheat falls into the ground dies then bears fruit new life
so hate soul temptation in this world safeguard soul for eternal life

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Not Love

I HAVE not yet I could have loved thee, sweet;
Nor know I wherefore, thou being all thou art,
The engrafted thought in me throve incomplete,

And grew to summer strength in every part
Of root and leaf, but hath not borne the flower.
Love hath refrained his fullness from my heart.

I know no better beauty, none with power
To hold mine eyes through change and change as thine,
Like southern skies that alter with each hour,

And yet are changeless, and their calm divine
From light to light hath motionlessly passed,
With only different loveliness for sign.

I know no fairer nature, nor where, cast
On the clear mirror of thine own young truth,
The imaged things of Heaven lie plainer glassed;

Nor where more fit alike show tender ruth,
And anger for the right, and hopes aglow,
And joy and sighs of April-hearted youth.

But some day I, so wont to praise thee so
With unabashed warm words for all to hear,
Shall scarcely name another, speaking low.

Some day, methinks, and who can tell how near?
I may, to thee unchanged, be praising thee
With one not worthier but a world more dear;

With one I know not yet, who shall, maybe,
Be not so fair, be not in aught thy peer;
Who shall be all that thou art not to me.

poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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People like us

PEOPLE LIKE US

People like us
We don’t get a lot
of chances in life
Don’t aim too high
People like us
you Take
what they give you
Sometime
a little
is a lot
People like us
sign here
on the
dotted line.
People like us
we are
happy its ok
We get by
from day to day
Thank you
for letting
us.
People like us.

poem by Boaz Zippor
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Butoh I

Shaved heads left
with no identity
crawling out of
dust's eternity
they spit and howl
the beauty true
foiled hopes under the
white pale hue
the dream of what
you shouldn’t
might
not really
couldn’t
don’t look now!

It's horrible
it's shocking
it's what you are
it's what we know
it's not the no
it's not the yes
just to confess
you don't get what it's
all about it's
something crazy
it's something strange
emotion's range
of darkness light
the rays of night
under the white face
of your soul
out of control
in rhythm that
just cannot be
known to men
like you and me.

It's pure as
New York snow
it touches where
you cannot know
it cries
it laughs
it says it all
in words
untold
as black stars
fall
it's here
it's now
it's ugly
but it's
still somehow
so
beautiful.

poem by Boaz Zippor
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I Dreamt You

I dreamt you
last night
After years that I thought
that my dreams were dry
as I remember
all those days
before I lost my I

Your face clear in the crowd
your hallow curly hair
the innocence of childhood still
no stains beyond repair

I dreamt you
in a middle
of another dream.
Just standing
looking forward
with that look upon your face,
without a smile
without a tear
in golden shining innocence

Your face was like the moon
in full glow but of cold
as if the preview of your life
when your dreams will grow old

I dreamt you
in a riddle
of an unknown golden mean.
Teasing me
with your eyes wide
your gaze so true
in holy hue
a lie could not avail
no passenger in this old ride
but captain of the sail

I dreamt you
last night.
I awoke in comfort and at ease
a master of my life and
in my hands I hold the keys.
I woke refreshed and energised
with certainty I knew
that all is well and there is hope
for I am still just you.

poem by Boaz Zippor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Young Girls in Summer Jeans

Two young girls in summer jeans
Hold hands and kiss
As a charmingly young and handsome unshaven boy
Tags along secretly in love with both.

Youth is a sweet dream to slowly savor
As long as humanly possible,
To dramatically enjoy every breath
With an open-minded desire to embrace
Everything and everyone.

Youth can only be maintained forever
In the charitable and non-judgmental mind;
One can lose his youth in an hour
When he chooses to close his eyes
And to condemn the ways of joy
He fails to understand.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Master Of Mind Can only be a Master Mind!

Seeing and hearing,
Is it eye that see?
Is it ear that hear?
Eyes are windows of Mind,
Like are ears, eyes have eyelids, ears remain open!

Seeing is not perceiving,
Light passes through the small camera,
Giving picture of world around,
Yet mind is the processor,
Process the data,
Process the colourful image,
Sometime filling with its own colour!

But it is not vision,
mind sees something itself,
Seeing through the mind without the help of eyes
Neither windows opened,
Nor light from open windows affect!

Mind is that faculty sees something within,
And day by day the vision become clear,
When mind learns it is not the seer,
It sees everything clear,
Clearly presented to the master,
And Self is the master of Mind,
When mind is pure and clear,
Without prejudice and suspense traits,
Self perceives self in its true nature,
Nothing goes bad,
processed food for thought remain good for ever!

one who sees eyes as seer,
He is ignorant,
One who sees mind as a seer,
Knows not,
One whose mind sees the seer is different,
Vision get purified, seer can see through the mind,
Scenes seen by mind with eyes closed,
when perceived by seer,
It becomes vision of life,
And that vision when becomes ambition of life,
Ambition becomes aspiration,
Aspiration transforms into mission,
Mission transmits wisdom and genius of self!

Self becomes master Of mind
Self becomes master Mind,
Master and mind becomes one,
Master Of Mind Can only be a Master Mind

poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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