Here are two poems my dad shared with me recently. I relate to both and thought I would share them.
On Joy and Sorrow
Kahlil Gibran
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, "Joy is greater thar sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits, alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.
The following is a piece of an article written by Janice Kapp Perry:
I Have Come to Know God
A wonderful woman in my own stake whose son David suffered from Hurler’s Syndrome, a type of gargoilism, expressed to me in an interview how difficult it had been to watch the suffering of her son through the years. Friends, noting her exhaustion, urged Donna Rae Woolf to find relief by joining a tour to Israel where her spirit would surely be renewed. Donna loved seeing all the significant things there were to see and feel in that sacred place but later expressed to me that the place where she truly learned to know God was sitting at the bedside of her son night after night when he had pain that she could not relieve, praying that the Lord would come for him:
Oh, frustrated little spirit,
Placed in an imperfect gown.
A gown of exquisite material—just a little bit upside down.
It will take a Master Tailor to repair and make aright.
He will, and the spirit and gown will unite in might.
(Donna Rae Woolf)
4 comments:
Wow, those are beautiful and oh so true! You have been through a lot my friend. You are my hero! Thank you for sharing your deepest feelings and thoughts.
A few months ago, I found a passage to a poem I've since posted up (I printed it up for my office, and hand wrote it in my apt). When I first read it, I immediately wanted to share it with you! Funny. This just reminds me why. Really enjoyed those poems!
lovely...thank you for sharing :)
I loved the first poem. It was so beautifully written. Thanks for sharing.
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