Volume 14 , Issue 51

Duchess of Weaselskin

It is beginning to look a lot like a Winter wonderland up here in the Southwest Colorado Rockies. Starting late Thursday evening of last week, running through Sunday, December 16, 2012, here in Southwest Colorado, North of Bayfield, we have accumulated over two feet of snow that has compacted down a few inches. The digital photo on the left is an image of Vallecito Lake looking southeast towards the dam as the snow clouds curl, hover over the mountain tops. You got to love Winter time in the Colorado Rockies, huh?

Meanwhile, NW Okie found this poem written by the 1923 poet, Khalil Gibran, about Children Chapter IV (from the 1923 book entitled The Prophet that she wanted to share with you. Gibran was a classic poet that lived from 1883-1931 in Lebanon. Khalil Gibran (born Gubran Khalil Gubran, in academic contexts often spelled Jubran Khalil Jubran) also known as Kahlil Gibran, was a Lebanese American artist, poet, and writer. He was born in the town of Bsharri in modern-day Lebanon (then part of the Ottoman Mount Lebanon mutasarrifate), as a young man he emigrated with his family to the United States where he studied art and began his literary career. He was chiefly known in the English speaking world for his book 1923 - The Prophet, an early example of inspirational fiction including a series of philosophical essays written in poetic English prose. The book sold well despite a cool critical reception, and became extremely popular in the 1960's counterculture. Gibran is the third best-selling poet of all time, behind Shakespeare and Lao-Tzu.

Children Chapter IV by Khalil Gibran

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, "Speak to us of Children."
And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

Khalil also wrote in his poetry about Joy And Sorrow Chapter VIII, "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." What do you think?

Seasons Greetings! Happy Holidays! & Merry Christmas!
Good Night & Good Luck!   |  View or Add Comments (0 Comments)   |   Receive updates ( subscribers)  |   Unsubscribe

---