How can they offer the world hope if their houses are filled with lonely people?
I lift my heart to skies and give it to God and see what was meant to be.
Caring to see rightly, tenderness holding tightly.
But just another club sandwich at the café.
The walk of life grinds on stuff, somehow, it affirms the very life in me.
“I find it hard to adjust to you,” he said.
“But I want to be this way,” she said.
“I don’t want to change,” he replied. She said, “But I only like you a certain way.”
He said, “Perhaps I should turn that side on and turn off the other stuff you don’t like.”
“Would that be too hard, dear? Do it for me and you’ll become a better man for it.”
“But I’ve been doing that for years,” he said.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice, but recently I’ve noticed a…”
He was thinking, I better not tell her about all the other stuff that was going on in my bachelor days. He yearned for the comforts of his long lost remote control where he felt accepted where life would go back to normal and this little conversation a relic of a bad moment.
But they accepted one another, essentially.
Life is wide, within our reach, inside of it, our lot.
We are not without grasp, inside this realm,
Someone searches, with love below and high
Reading some of the romantic poems and literature that comes out of India, I saw a lot of heart brokenness in the stories, when one’s sweetheart leaves. It then occurred to me that these stories reveal much tender feeling towards love and romance. They way that the love wasn’t tossed into the dirt to be trampled over or thrown into the ocean with a million fishes eager to eat it up. I found the sensibility, the sense that love is treated tenderly, better than many romances that get produced in the English language.
From a pulpit, they talked about loving others from and then you may fall short: An ideal followed by a fall. Naturally, we could do that, being human. By taking that on board, was someone heading for a fall, by suggestion? Dunno. But what was the remedy? Some people said to me, “You go stagnant there. You don’t grow there.” But there was a thread of good among the dross…learning about grace, for me. But one stills must grow in grace, not leave it sitting still.