Once , a young orphan girl, despondent and lonely, walked through a meadow and saw a small butterfly caught in a thorn bush. the more the butterfly struggled to free itself, the deeper the thorns cut into it's fragile body.
Filled with compassion, the girl released the butterfly. But, instead of flying away, the butterfly transformed into an angel and said gently, "To reward you for your kindness, I will do whatever you like."
The girl thought for a moment, then replied, "I want to be happy!"
"Very well," the angel said. Then the heavenly creature leaned close to the girl and whispered something in her ear.
Many years later, as the orphan lay on her deathbed after a full and happy life, her friends gathered around her. "Won't you tell us your secret now," they pleaded. With a labored smile, the woman answered,"An angel told me that no matter where I went in life, I would find people who needed me-- people rich or poor, young or old, meek or self assured-- and meeting those needs would bring me happiness and satisfaction."
Somewhere in your life there is someone who needs you. Are you willing to be an angel and meet that need?
Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves.-- Romans, 12:10 NIV
from eighteen seconds before sunrise
"last weekend at the benicassim festival appearance in spain, orri’s fantastic crown went missing. if you have any information that would lead to the crown being returned to the band then please contact us. a reward is offered to whomever helps get it back."
Such a shame, too. It's so much more colorful than those crap ones from Burger King.
Love
of
beauty
is
Taste
.
The
creation
of
beauty
is
Art.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Just beyond the sunset, Someone waits for me, Just beyond the sunset, Lies my destiny.
- David Harris
The heat of the spring sun, warms blades of grass, woven by breaths of wind...above, endless blue sky, reminiscent of azure seas sweeping a white sand beach - a cove, scattered with scarred pieces of driftwood, each furrow a story of a thousand tales.
Bright
splashes of colour, dappled by the lazy sunlight, draw detail to the
eye. Purples in riot, vivid oranges and yellows...all the colours of
the kaleidescope in every variety and hue...
Blossoms fall from above, sunlit, scattering on the earth like flakes of snow, grace from heaven, inherent with evanescent beauty... falling like motes of dust suspended in a ray of light.
White petals drench the earth, windswept, cast adrift by dictatorial threads of fate. The earth reaches and claims its own, a vast, subterranean wisdom older than the ages, older than thought, transcendent; grounding.
A petal becomes a blossom, thousands spread as an ethereal carpet, becomes a moment, a thousand such moments...an eternity of pattern and repetition. The only constancy finding itself in the vastness of that earth.
Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:
The firefly wakens: waken thou with me.
Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.
Now lies the Earth all Danae to the stars,
And all thy heart lies open unto me.
Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.
Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the bosom of the lake:
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my bosom and be lost in me.
- Alfred, Lord Tennyson, Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal
Let the sweet fresh breezes heal me
As they rove around the girth
Of our lovely mother planet
Of the cool, green hills of Earth.
- Robert A. Heinlein, The Green Hills of Earth
My Groups
-
The Thinking Woman Updated: 12 minutes ago
-
Voxaholic Updated: 17 minutes ago
-
Flower Photography Updated: 28 minutes ago
Neighborhood
Explore friends, family, friends & family, or entire neighborhood.
